I Have Always Loved You
by neonnchrome1123
Summary: Mark and Roger both want each other, but there are so many things keeping them apart. PreRENT to PostRENT. MarkRoger
1. A Need I Haven't Felt in Months

Roger's POV

I wake up shivering, suddenly feeling the need for a hit. A need I haven't felt in six months. It must have been something about the wind brushing against my body that made me need a needle in my arm. I pull the warm blanket over my shoulders and bring my knees up to my stomach, clenching all the muscles in my body tightly. My eyes haven't opened yet, but I know it's still dark. I can't eat, can't move, can't think about anything but heroin. A year ago I would have run down to the alley to get some, to fill my veins with comfort. But not now, besides Mark would kill me. All the shit he went through to get me clean, then I blow it on a single second of want. I'll stay in bed, keep my eyes closed, and the need will drift away.

My eyes are willed open when I feel the warm, bright sunlight beaming down on me. I fell asleep slowly again last night, but not without convincing myself I shouldn't get a hit. I don't want to get up, but I know I need breakfast. My hand slips away from my blanket and lands softly on the mattress next to my face. I hear the door open, hoping it to be Mark so he could drag my ass out of bed. My stomach kills. I imagine a table loaded with a feast of eggs, bacon, fruit and juice. Just a mirage. All the food that was waiting for me was a bowl of cereal. Stale, and most likely without milk. Milk was a treat, and Mark spoiled me too often with it.

I hear footsteps falling closer and closer to my door.

"Roger? Get up; I let you sleep till I got back! It's ten!" He pounds once on the door before creeping it open and sliding over to the bed. The mattress gives in to him, even though he couldn't weigh much. My body slightly tips downward and my eyes drowsily shut.

"Ten isn't late." I say, even though I am in need of a wake up call.

"It is too. Now come on, you need food." His hand clamps around my arm, and he pulls softly, willing me to get up by myself. "I bought you a muffin." I'm shocked. Mark probably spent the rent money on a stupid muffin I don't even want to get up to eat.

"Why?" I ask, keeping my eyes closed but raising my body against the wall.

"Thought you'd want it." I open my eyes to see his blue ones smiling back at me. "And maybe to see if you'd be nice enough to share it with me." He smiles wider, but I still feel horrible. He takes care of me when I don't deserve to be taken care of.

"I guess, if I can ever get out of this fuckin' bed."

"I would think your stomach would've dragged you out before. You didn't eat dinner."

"Well, good thing, otherwise that muffin would have put us further in debt."

"Just get out of bed and stop complaining about the stupid muffin." He pats me on the thigh and walked out, as I finally found the strength to follow him.

The feast I imagined wasn't there, not that I expected it, but what I did find was almost as perfect. Around the table sat Mark, Maureen, and a muffin in the center. It shouldn't have made me so happy, but seeing Mark waiting for me to enjoy half a muffin was oddly satisficatory. Maureen smiled wearily at me, rubbing Mark's hand with her thumb and staring down at her mug of coffee.

"Sit, you look unstable." Mark commanded and I complied, laughing but barely letting a sound out of my mouth.

"It's sad to see us all eagerly waiting to eat a single muffin." I sighed, reaching out to break it in half. The chocolate chips rolled down my hand, and Maureen reached over to slip one in her mouth.

"It's sad that you spent rent money just make Roger happy." Maureen scoffed, but her eyes refused to leave her coffee.

"He's so skinny. A buck fifty isn't that big of a deal. I just won't get new film this month." My instincts wanted me to scream at him for treating me so well, but savored the chocolate in my mouth. It was even harder not to reach out for Mark's other hand, and hold it, just like Maureen was doing.


	2. Green Gems

Mark's POV

I feel the goosebumps crawling on my skin as the employer stuffs the chocolate chip muffin into a brown paper bag.

"That's two dollars." She snaps chewing her gum loudly and letting her mouth hang open so I can see the pink blob.

"Here." I stuff the money into her hand, intending not to tell Roger how much it was. He would kill me. Even though it was two bucks, we need every penny. Anything to scrounge together for the rent every month would do. Ever since Benny moved out, it's been impossible to pay.

I grasp the bag between my fingers and once again head out into the wind and cold. Fuckin' September. I'm surprised there isn't snow. I grab my arms, attempting to wrap my hands around them, but my fingers are too cold. I stuff them back in my pockets and walk faster. Maureen better not be home, all I'm gonna get from her is how I'm wasting money on Roger. I see kids on the street, red noses, tiny faces. They're having fun, playing, ignoring the cold. If only I could find some way to do the same. My face burns and my hands tingle, but I still manage to take out my camera.

"Zoom in on the only happy New Yorkers. Ignoring the freezing temps on this fine September morning." I whisper, and one of them catches sight of the machine in my hand. She waves and giggles, and then another girl hits her on the shoulder. She gives me a hateful and exhausted look, then turns around to run after her friend.

"No fair! I wasn't payin attention!" She yells, her blonde hair blowing sloppily onto her face. Both of them reach the corner and I switch my camera off.

I get to the door and turn the knob slowly, hoping to see Roger at the round table. All I see is Maureen, reading the paper. She points at the door to Roger's bedroom.

"Where'd you get a paper?" I ask, rubbing my hands together and slipping my jacket down around my shoulders.

"Lady handed it to me. I hope she didn't think I was homeless. My shirt is supposed to look torn!" I roll my eyes at her and she gives me a cheesy smile.

"Lazy bum! Roger, get up! I let you sleep till I got back!" I knock on the door and barge in without permission. He looks so peaceful sleeping there, his body curled up in a ball to stay warm. I sit down lightly trying not to disturb him, but the mattress is a piece of shit. His eyes remain closed, but I can tell he was awake. "You need food." I say quietly, he looks emancipated. His face is pale and the bones are visibly square. His fingers look frail, so vulnerable but warm. I would give anything to hold them, kissing his palm, but instead I grasp my hand around his bony wrist. He groans and slides to a sitting position, opening his eyes and revealing green gems. I smile at him, not even making sense of the words coming from my mouth.

"Why?" Roger's voice cracks and his face shows confusion yet need.

"Thought you'd want it." My hand slips away from his, drifting down and landing intentionally on his thigh.

It took convincing, but eventually we were at the table eating. Maureen gently rubs the top of my hand, but my eyes are focused on Roger contently eating the muffin.

"We got a paper?" He asks, crumbs coming roughly from his mouth.

"Yea, some woman thought…"

"Don't Marky!" Maureen takes her hand away from mine and grasps tighter to her mug of coffee.

"Sorry. Yea, we got a paper." I say, meeting eyes with Roger before I reluctantly look down. His hand lays sprawled on the table next to me. My hand comes free from Maureen and crawls next to it, grazing his fingertip on accident. His eyes shift towards me innocently, and I look back to give him a smile, reminding me of something I can't have. He sighs. I feel anxious. Want overpowers me, and I have to move. My hand pulls the chair out from the table and I get up, Roger's eyes following me the whole way. I don't dare meet them, I already knew what was there. Disappointment. I hear him clear his throat before taking another bite.

"I thought you wanted half?" He sighs, looking down at the table.

"Nah, I don't feel like eating."

"Sure?"

"Mhmm" I put my hand on his shoulder and grip it tightly. "Take it." I look over at Maureen cringe in disgust as Roger devours the rest of the muffin in one bite.

"My God, Roger, you're sick." She giggles, but I throw her an angry look before picking up my camera on the table next to the door.

"Don't turn that thing on. I look like shit." Roger says. _You always look perfect_ I think to myself before shoving the camera in his face.

"Marky, you never shoot me anymore!" Maureen whined and I give her a minute of attention before turning back to Roger.

"Zoom in on Roger, who has just been treated to two bucks of heaven." Shit. I told him it was $1.50. Here it comes.

"Mark! You said it was a buck fifty! Stop spending money on things that I don't need." His face is red with anger, yet he still takes bites out of the muffin. I can tell he enjoys it, but he doesn't want to.

"It's fine, I told you! I just won't buy new film."

"Then save the stuff you have and get that damn camera out of my face." Roger pushes the lense away from him, and I turn it off.

"I gotta get to work. Bye, Marky." Maureen plants a kiss on my lips, and skips out the door. Roger and I are alone. He turns his head and smiles. I melt. I want to kiss him, run my fingers through his hair, tell him he's beautiful. Only in my dreams.


	3. Pushed Away

Roger's POV (one hour later)

We have been sitting here talking for what seems like an eternity. Everything I didn't know about Mark I now do. He's told me everything I didn't really care about knowing. But, anything about Mark is interesting to me.

Every once and a while he unconsciously rubs his foot against the upper part of my thigh. We are sitting on the couch, his feet by my thigh and my feet by his. We're both so skinny we fit easily.

The feeling of him against me is amazing. I want to crawl up into his lap. I sit, arms crossed, imagining all the things I _could_ do right now. All the things I would never do. We keep talking, but my mind isn't on what I'm saying. I stare into Mark's eyes, fighting the urge to jump across the couch, colliding lips, noses, faces, hands, bodies…no.

"So I moved to New York. Then, you know the rest." He finishes, and I snap back to reality.

"Yep." I utter, wiping the sweat off of my palm and slouching down a little lower. "Why would you want to leave home to come to New York? Besides not having food, being broke and unemployed of course." I smile and he chuckles, but his lips don't move. I yearn for his smile, his eyes beaming, anything that shows a sign of life from him.

"I don't know, adventure?"

"Ahh, did you ever find it?" I laugh, and finally manage to see his smile beaming through the sad complexion of his face.

"Guess not. But I got to take care of a junkie for three months." He lays his hand on my shin and I suppress a shiver. "We've never talked like this before."

"That's because you were too busy making sure I wasn't dead every morning. Now we actually have some free time." My eyes feel like shutting, I'm so damn tired. My head aches and my stomach feels empty. No, it doesn't _feel_ empty, it is empty. My only motivation to live is Mark. I have no food, money, or inspiration for music. My guitar has been in the corner forever. I touched it yesterday, hoping maybe something would come, but that idea self-destructed.

"Well, we should have talked a while ago." He starts to get up, but I put my foot over his lap. I probably shouldn't have, but I don't want him to leave. "What?" He says, laughing.

"Don't go, I'm too comfy." I lean my head against the back of the couch and smile.

"Fine, but I have to get up soon. When Maureen gets home we are going to go out. She's paying." I scoff at his pride in the words.

"She can afford to pay for dinner but not to buy us food? Not even milk."

"Well, she will. Dinner comes first." I look away, angry. I don't care about Maureen spending money on dinner. I don't want Mark going out with her. They will kiss and touch and be together, while I'm alone with my guitar. "Okay, I really got to get up man. My feet are both asleep." Without thinking, I grab Mark's foot and rub it between the toes. He looks shocked, but sinks into my touch. He moans quietly and his head drops back, but then he kicks out of my grip. "Stop it, just don't."

"Sorry, I thought…"

"No, I just….it felt too, I have to get up." He hesitantly picks himself up, and I soak in the last second his body touches mine.

He walks to his bedroom and slams the door behind him. I shouldn't have touched him. Now he's confused. Now I'm confused as well.

Roger's POV (a week later)

Mark sits alone, on the couch, fondling his camera. I long to talk to him, but my stupid foot rub forbids me from ever getting close to him again. I walk out of the room and shiver, clutching tightly to the blanket around my shoulders. October's a bitch. Even more so than September. My guitar still sits lonesome in the corner, hoping to be played. Once I have the words in me I'll grab it.

Mark looks up as I walk across the room, and frowns. I can't help but think that a little part of him liked when I touched him. Maybe even wanted me to do more? But I can't allow myself to think like that. If I do no good will come out of it.

"You want some food? Maureen bought cereal." He says, his eyes shifting from me to the kitchen.

"Sure. Will you eat with me?" I ask, knowing the answer will be in the form of a no, but I try to sound as if I don't really care.

"Umm, yea in a sec. I need to get the fuckin' film out of my camera." I grab a plastic bowl and spoon and pour fruit loops into it. I don't even bother to look for milk, I don't really need it.

After a couple minutes and six slow bites of fruit loops, Mark comes to sit next to me.

"You need something to drink?" I shake my head.

"Why'd you storm off?" My eyes try to stay focused on the cereal but it's impossible. I need to see his shocked reaction.

"Sorry, I…my feet were just asleep." He hesitates to speak again, then gives up and lays his hands on top of each other.

"I could have helped you."

"I know but...I just don't think Maureen would have liked it too much." He lies.

"What? You deserve something after she goes out fucking every guy in the city!" I yell, and then wish hopelessly I could take it back. I don't want to hurt him, but I think I just have.

"She does not!" The table moves violently as he gets up, heading to his room.

"Wait! Mark?" I run to him, grabbing hold of his arm and twisting him to face me. "Just…wait." I look into his eyes and see tears building up. "Marky, don't cry." My hand hesitantly goes to his face, wiping a tear away and cupping his cheek.

"I'm sorry, I just….I know she cheats on me. Just to hear someone say it." He doesn't push my hand away like I thought he would. His eyes close and he lets it stay. My body moves closer with every second, I can feel his warmth. I touch my nose to his, and reach forward gently before feeling a hand on my chest. He pushes me back and I hit the counter. "Don't! Don't fuck me up, Roger!" Mark screams and runs to his room again, as tears now form in my eyes. I sigh in anger. My hands shake with depression, and my mind races with thoughts. I had gotten so close, but I was pushed away.


	4. Shell shocked

Thank you so much for reviewing my story, it makes me feel so great when you people review, seeing as I am new at this whole posting my stories! So I'll keep the chapters coming if you keep the reviews coming! Love you guys!

Mark's POV (a month later)

My camera has nothing to shoot. Roger is no longer fair game. I don't even want to see him. The hurt is too much. I want him, he wants me but…Maureen.

Heroin.

The past.

So many reasons not to go through with it. I've contemplated so many fuckin' times if everything is worth it. If being with Roger is worth losing Maureen and putting myself at risk.

"Marky? You home?" Maybe she won't hear me. Maybe I'll just dissolve into my bed and won't have to deal with any of this. "Mark?" She walks into my room and rests against the doorframe. "Hi."

"Hi." I keep my head facing the ceiling, prompting her to climb next to me on the bed. I look over and see a somber look coming from her usually perky face. "Why are you home so early? We need the money."

"They let me off, it's lunch anyways. Did you eat anything baby?" I ignore her, I never eat anyway, why should things change?

"I'm just lying here waiting for my next inspiration to come."

"Do you love me Marky?" Her hand rests on my arm and I laugh.

"Not when you call me Marky."

"Mark! I'm serious." She squeals, and I can tell she is. I sigh and turn over on my side.

"Yes, I love you. Do you love me?" Tears roll down her cheeks and I reach over to get a tissue for her. She takes it, although it makes her cry harder.

"Yes. That's why I have to tell you the truth." She closes her eyes tight, building up courage. Her mouth opens, and so does the bathroom door.

"Hello? I'm out of the shower." Roger sounds refreshed and Maureen runs to slam the door. _Roger's in a towel, water running down his body, his hair sticking to…_NO! Not the time, focus on Maureen.

"Mark, don't flip out okay?" She doesn't wait for my answer, but tells me anyway. "I'm in love with someone else." My mouth drops open in shock. Suddenly my world feels like it's collapsing down around me. Even though Maureen is not my everything, that's what was just pulled out from under me. My support is gone. If I didn't love Maureen, I knew she loved me, and that's all that mattered. The thought of losing her is unbearable. Just breaking up would be one thing, but there's someone else. Now that hurts. Stings even.

My words sputter out of my mouth like oil out of an engine. "Wha…what…what? Someone…I can't..someone else? _You're_ in love with someone else?" I thought if we would have this conversation at all it would be me telling her that _I _am falling for someone else. But never her, she just has meaningless sex. Now everything seems meaningless to me. It's like every wall around me is slowing pushing inward.

"Well, yes. I'm so sorry Marky. I love you so much, and at first I tried to break it off but she just…" I put my fingers up to her lips and she shrugs. She knows what word I am baffled by.

"Did you just say?" My mouth hangs open, wide and dry.

"Mmhmm." Her eyes close and I can feel her lips kiss my index finger. I know she doesn't want to hurt me. I'm not even mad, I just feel betrayed and alone. The first thing that comes to mind. Roger.

"Marky, say something." There have been a few minutes of silence, I had to get my thoughts together.

"I….don't know. I'm so confused. Who is…she?" I regret putting emphasis on the word she, I'm not judging, but it sure sounds like it.

"Her name is Joanne. She's a lawyer, it's been going on for a while now, longer than I care to tell you. Please don't hate me Mark. Know that I still want to be your friend." She smiles wishfully, but she shouldn't worry at all. The only thoughts I have now are if I should pursue Roger. Should I tell Maureen? No, there is nothing to tell. Roger is my friend.

"That's great for you, Mo. I don't hate you, not at all. Us as a couple, I don't think it's the greatest idea." She looks down at my bedspread, caressing my knee with her palm. Her smile is so sweet and I can't help but be madly in love with her…as a friend that is.

"Okay. I'm sorry. I'm gonna go pack." Her lips brush against my cheek and I grab her arm.

"You're moving out now?"

"Well, yea. I told Joanne I would be out last week, so I'm late as it is." She karate kicks the door open and waves to Roger, directly outside of it. He's pretending not to be listening, but blushes and smiles at me embarrassed.

"Everything okay?" He asks and slides in a few steps.

"Sure. Just got dumped. Kinda sucks."

"Awww, Mark….I'm sorry." He uses the opportunity to slither over to my bed and lay his hand on me. "You okay?"

"Fine. Just a little shell shocked is all." Roger doesn't try to make a move, and I appreciate it, but for some reason I want him to. Just once, I wouldn't push him away if he tried.

"Good."

"It is?" I look up into his eyes, hoping for some inspirational reason for why I am better off without Maureen.

"Yea…now…I'm not alone with my guitar anymore." White gleaming teeth show through his soft, pale lips, and the sun hits his face just right. His hair was recently cut, not as short as it once was, but the perfect length. Long enough to run your fingers through. Not that I would know, having never touched Roger's hair. I bet it's soft. I can tell by the way it shines and falls on his face.

"You never were." His smile drops, but he's not frowning. He has a look of want. He wants to reach out for my face, I can feel it. I love that he listened to what I said before, he doesn't want to fuck me up. I told him not to, but now I am the one ready to fuck myself up. I want to make a move.

"We should go out. Out to eat."

"Do you have money?"

"No! Where do you think I would get money from?"

"Well, it was your idea!"

"Then nevermind." His body collapses next to mine and I lay back down again, my head slowly sinking into the feathers of the pillow. He's about to fall off but doesn't say anything. " I'm so bored around here with nothing to do. I could play guitar but my fingers are raw." I pick up his hand and feel the calloused fingers with my own.

"They're not so bad. You should at least try to tune it."

"Huh?" His attention returns to me, instead of our hands rubbing together.

"Your guitar, your hands."

"Oh, right." The inside of my stomach is bombarded with butterflies, I feel that nervous twist of excitement within me. "Will you lay here with me for a little while? I'm so lonely out there." His head tilts to look at me and I nod, watching him close his eyes in delight. Before long, he's asleep, snuggling against my side. My eyes struggle to stay open, but they can't for another second. The feeling of Roger next to me makes me forget all about Maureen and "Joanne".

Notes: I thought maybe there would be a little interaction between the two, but I'll save it for later. No muffin in this chapter guys, sorry!


	5. He Breathes Life Into Me

Yesterday my mom got the RENT book from the library, and I have to say that Adam Pascal looks goooood! It was also really interesting to read the entire play and see the things they took out of the movie. Plus it gave me a couple new ideas to fit in here…so enjoy the next chapter!

---------------------------------

Roger's POV (a week later)

Mark and I have been alone in the apartment everyday this week. It seems everyone else has dropped off the face of the planet. Not that I mind.

We've talked ourselves dry. Politics, religion, music, movies, television, food, people, everything is a worn out topic by now. But unlike last time, there was no touching of bodies, skin or breath. He doesn't want me near him, so I'm staying away. Occasionally he'll stick his camera in my face, smiling giddily behind it. I wink and smile smoothly before pushing it away. Might as well give him something to work with for now. I know he's an artist, a better one than me at that. He doesn't leave his camera for eight months without touching it.

Every time I see Mark's face I light up, he breathes life into me. I zone out too often with thoughts of him in my head. I need something to distract me. Something to get my mind off Mark. Sometimes I think kissing him once would give me what I need, but then I know I would need more.

I see his eyes open wide when I come out with just a towel on, hoping he's thinking what I'm thinking. All I do is go to my room as fast as I can. All I have is myself. My own imagination, my own body, my own thoughts to work with. I have to imagine how Mark feels, how he smells, how he kisses. To me, Mark would have soft lips, able to run over my chest as his hands comb through my hair. Sadly, all of this must stay in my head.

"Mark, I'm going to take a shower." I shut the door behind me, pulling my towel off the back of it. My clothes slip off my body as the hot water drips rapidly out of the showerhead. Before I know it, my jeans and sweatshirt are in a heap on the floor. The curtain of the bathtub is green, an unusual color, and I don't think it's been washed in a couple years. For all I know the green might be all the mold that's built up on it. Now that thought is in my head, I refuse to touch it. My leg slides around it, and into the accumulating puddle on the floor. I let my hair collect water and rub the rest all over my body. Reaching up I notice my shampoo isn't there. _Fuck. Where the hell could it be? _Determined to get clean, I grasp my towel and quickly wrap it around my waist before heading out of the door. The cold hits me like a sheet, and goose bumps appear like they were there the whole time.

"Mark, holy shit, it's cold! Mark! Where is my shampoo?" I grab my arms and shiver, when I see him coming from his room. He's looking at the floor, and I'm glad. I should have thought before coming out in a towel. But who takes my shampoo out of the shower?

"I have no idea, why do you think I know? I use my…" His eyes stop on me. Water is dripping down my body, and the towel is slowly slipping off of me. These damn things never stay on.

"Huh?" I know why he stopped talking, but I pretend not to notice he's staring. "Mark, come on, I'm freezing my ass off!"

"Sorry!" His eyes snap back to my face. "I think Maureen might have taken it. I have no clue why she would have, but it's possible."

"Well…now I don't have shampoo."

"I can tell. Aren't you cold?"

"Just a little, yea." I shrug and walk across the room to peek around the corner to the kitchen counter. Nothing is there. No shampoo. Shit!

"Roger! You're getting water all over the place! Get back in the bathroom!" He points to the door, and I realize I've made a puddle in the living room.

"No, I'll help you clean it up. We need another towel."

"I don't think we have one." He sighs, and looks up at me. We stare down at the towel around me.

"Well, I'm not taking it off! It's just gonna have to wait."

"Yea." He looks down at the growing water spot and stands up. "Go take your shower. Stop dripping!"

"Ugh, fine!" I whip the towel off of me and flip it onto the ground. My foot wipes it along the ground and I try frantically not to look at Mark. I'm hoping he's turned away, not looking at my naked, wet body, but I doubt it very much.

"Roger…I…" He stumbles over every syllable, and I shut my eyes in regret. I clean up the rest of the puddle and slowly stand up.

"What?"

"You…didn't have to." He smiles through his beat red face, and I laugh as my body begs to touch him.

"Oh well. It's cleaned up." I return the towel to my body again, covering up the part of me he's tried not to stare at. "Happy?"

"Not now."

"Wh…oh." I look down at my chest. "Mark, I don't think…you said I'd fuck you up."

"Well, that was when…I mean now, you're clean and…" He scoots closer to me, and his hand reaches cautiously for my body.

"I haven't taken a shower yet, I'm not…"

"I meant the drugs, Rog."

"Ohh." My eyes close in ecstasy as his hand makes contact with my skin, smoothly moving up my neck and onto my cheek. His body moves into mine, I feel the warmth of his chest against mine, as his fingers skim over my lips. One slips into my mouth, and touches my teeth and my tongue caresses it. "Mark, kiss me, please."

"You want…" I grasp the back of his neck, pulling it to me, joining our faces and lips together. I never want to leave his arms. My top lip rests in his mouth, hugging his bottom lip. His hands move down my body, tugging on the towel that hangs on my hips. "Roger…" He moans, and I drown, lost in his kiss. This moment I've been waiting so long for.

"Take it off, pull." I say, and he complies quickly, ripping the fabric off of me. My body pushes him into the wall, pinning him between my skin and the wooden board. Hands, fingers, lips, noses, everything moves too fast. He's touching me everywhere, every inch, and I feel him all over me. I begin to lift off his shirt, and he breaks our kiss, saliva rasping, to help me.

Our skin together is sensational, I can feel his heart pounding heavily against me. Our lips separate, and I gasp hard, wanting more than I knew I would get.

"Take them off." I command, I'm quite bossy, but he doesn't protest. He slips his pants down around his ankles and I lift his body up to press him harder into me. My tongue unhitches from his and rolls down his body, letting him slowly slide down the wall, to his feet.

Lips make contact with the tip, and he gasps. I never thought it would go this far, and I don't think either of us is very practical at the moment. I knew if he wasn't so out of it, he would tell me to stop. Leave me restless and in need. But he's in the moment too. He wants it as much as I do.

His hands feel my hair and dig roughly into my scalp. Mine massage his thighs, trying to calm him so he'll last.

"Roger…I…Rog!" I take my tongue off of him, long enough to press my lips against his and thrust him onto my bed in the other room.

"Wait…" We keep eye level, and my hands do all the work now. He groans in pleasure, grasping onto my thigh. I use my free hand to entwine our fingers and moan with him. Our tongues tangle together, but I need air. I lean my cheek on his, moving my hand at an increasing speed. "Touch me…" I manage to breath, and his hand immediately moves to my ass, then around to the other side. "Mark! Mar…" I don't last long, the sound of his moaning is more enjoyable than his hands on me.

He follows soon after, and we lay in my bed, breathless and satisfied.

"Roger…I…I've wanted that for so long." He smoothes the hair out of my face and brushes his lips on mine.

"Really? I thought…"

"I don't know why I stopped you. It ached inside to see you looking so hurt when I rejected you. I didn't mean to…" I put my lip to his, but without a kiss.

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Me too." His eyes droop shut, and before long he is sleeping next to me, pressed against my lips. I pull his body into me, feeling his breathing become steady.

-------------------------------------------

I'm walking down a white hall, I see April at the end. She's beautiful, just like she always was. She smiles, motioning for me to join her. I begin to walk towards the white light when I hear a voice come from behind me.

"ROGER! DON'T!" I spin myself around and see Mark's face, but he looks hurt and sad, tears running down his cheeks. I'm in the middle….who….I don't…I start to sweat, and I can't see….

"Mark? April…I don't…."

"Roger? Roger? Rog, are you okay?" My eyes snap open and I'm covered in sweat. My body has no control over the shaking and breathing. It's like a panic attack, but worse. I hear Mark but I don't see him. The world is spinning. "Roger…I'm here." Mark is beside me, blankets cover him, and me. I sigh in relief.

"Mark…you were dying…April…I don't know.."

"Shhh….I'm here now. Calm down." He pulls me into his arms, cradling me while whispering sweet nothings into my ear. "Don't cry." I see tears fall onto my pillow from my face. "It's okay."

"Mark." I hug him tightly, in fear of what would happen if I let go. He's so warm, so safe, so loving. "Mark, don't leave me."

"What? Never."

"You…oh, Mark."

"I promise. Never." He stares into my eyes and gently kisses me. I can feel my tears rubbing onto his face, and my body shaking beneath him.

"Love you Mark." I whisper, tears spraying out of my eyes and into the blanket over his body.

"I've always loved you Roger." I smile and sob. He's finally mine.

-------------------------------

Note: This isn't the last chapter, although it may seem like it. Still no muffin but I swear it will come back! Now, we introduce Mimi eventually and I love Mimi, but you know, this is Mark and Roger. Thanks for the reviews, keep 'em coming!


	6. I'll Still Want to Be With You

You guyzzzzzzzzzz! I thought I was happy to get Mark and Roger together, but your reviews were like icing on the cake! Now I know why all these writers are so grateful to their reviewers…you guys are amazing. You give me something to look forward to! Keep 'em coming and I'll do the same. Enjoy! P.S. I 3 Erin…you're the greatest friend anyone could ask for…I'm proud to be your jerkface. P.P.S I'm eating a muffin as I write this…spooooky! lol

----------------------------

Mark's POV

The body next to me is still covered in tears and sweat after the long, nightmare filled night before. Holding Roger, feeling him shake from sobs in my arms, makes me feel like we belong together. Like all this was worth it. His kisses were soft and tender, his fingers warm and calm on my body.

He smiles before his eyes even open, he's so sweet.

"Mornin'" He whispers, yawning loudly and pecking my cheek. My arms are wrapped around his entire body, hands hitched together at his stomach.

"Good morning." I'm mesmerized by his eyes, green pools of light beaming from his soul.

"Thank you for…"

"Don't…I was happy to help you."

"Still…the way you…I can't believe you would do that for me." Tears gather in his eyes, but he turns away, embarrassed to be seen crying.

"Rog, it's okay."

"No, I'm fine." He turns back and smiles, and I draw his chest into mine.

"You're better than fine." Our lips fit together perfectly, meshing as if they were two pieces of a puzzle.

"Stop being a smart ass. I could get up right now." He wipes the tears from his cheeks and begins to rise off the bed.

"What? All I meant was you're sexy."

"Oh, well…I don't know." He looks down at the sheets and twirls them in between his fingers. "Okay, if you say so." I seize the pillow beneath my elbow and hurl it at him. He squeals, laughing and flashing that oh-so-beautiful smile. "Now you're just being an ass."

He picks up his pillow and softly taps me with it.

"What was that? Were you trying to hit me?" I chuckle and he kisses the red mark he made on my chest.

"I was gonna actually hit you, but I didn't want to hurt you." His eyes are glazed over, and I can't help but kiss him. If only there were a way of expressing how much I really love him.

"Roger?" I run my fingers over the ripples in his hair, trying to straighten out the tangles. His lips kiss my chest, moving lower, lower, lower, to my belly button. Hands rise up to my arms, barely touching my skin, but just enough to make me shiver.

"Hmm?"

"Roger…" I moan this time, forgetting I had anything real to ask. He grips tightly to my hips as he runs his tongue along the inner part of my thigh. I feel like crying, screaming and laughing hysterically all at the same time. New realms of pleasure have been reached. "Roger…don't stop."

"Mark?" He takes his tongue off of me, and I quickly flip my eyes open. He sits between my thighs, looking contently down at me.

"Why did you stop?" I ask, sweat dripping off my brow.

"Because…I want to ask you something." His feet slide back and hang off the bed so he can lay his arms on my stomach.

"Okay. What?" He presses his lips to my stomach and sighs.

"Can…I mean is it too early?"

"For what?" I reach my hand over to lightly sweep his hair out of his face.

"I want to make love to you, Mark." He smiles lovingly at me. My immediate answer is yes, but then my mind becomes practical. He is HIV+.

"But…Roger, you have…"

"I know. That's why I want you to think about it." He moves his hand up to my face, tracing my lips, then the curves of my jaw.

"Okay. I will." For some reason tears come, streaming out of my eyes before I even realize they are there. I think it just hit me. Roger is dying. Before it wasn't as hurtful, him leaving me one day. But now, I have him in my arms, and I never want to let him go.

"Mark…it's okay. I'm fine." It's almost as if he knew why I was upset. He understands me better than anyone at times.

"I know. I just wish we could…without…" He hugs me tight, his body against mine under the sheets. He soothes me. Just the way he whispers, kisses, touches.

"Don't worry, Mark. Even if we can't, I'll still want to be with you." He rubs a tear away from under my eye and I sigh in relief and contentment.

"Me too." Our noses touch together, and his mouth hangs open, hungry for a kiss. I comply and lean forward until our lips press against each other. My hands lay firmly on his back, rubbing up and down, increasing speed with the passion of our kiss. We break for a moment, gasping for air before diving back in again.

"Woah, wait." He rests forehead on mine and whispers things I can't understand. "Mark…I can't…"

"What?" I'm in need of his touch, being so close to him without the feel of his breath on me is agonizing.

"I feel like I'm taking advantage of you. Forcing you to do something you don't..."

"I do. Of course I do."

"Are you s…"

"Positive." I bow my head, looking for his lips, but they aren't there. I open my eyes to see a huge smile spread across his face.

"I think I love you."

"I know I love you." We finally kiss, and a sigh escapes my mouth. I reach for his hand, locking our fingers together.

---------- ----------- ---------- --------

Christmas Eve, 10 AM

Mark's POV

Making love. The words haunt me inside and out. My mind has been racing with the words ever since Roger uttered them in my arms. He hasn't mentioned it since but I know it's on his mind every time we kiss. Every time we make some sort of contact. I want it so bad, but there's so much that could happen.

Is it worth it?

I'm so sick of that stupid question. It's the reason I was denying myself Roger. I was denying a kiss everyday when I wake up, a sweet whispered "I love you" in my ear before I drift into sleep, and everything that comes with it. His hands covering me when I'm cold, his arms wrapped around me when I'm upset, his fingers in my hair when he's kissing me. All of it would be gone. And for what? Just so I can feel like I'm alive? I feel alive with him, even if I were dying. And who says I'll be HIV+ anyway? Protection will work. It has to. Otherwise the whole plan falls apart.

Sometimes Roger wanders around the house moping, as if he's hoping I'll give in just to make him happy. I would do that; it would make me happy too. But something in my head and heart won't let me. Something isn't letting me go through with it. Maybe when we're in the moment. Maybe then my heart and soul will let me do it.

"Mark?" Roger walks into my room, breaking my train of thought and all sense of responsibility.

"Yea?" I sit up, pulling my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms around them.

"Have you…what are you doing?" He hesitates and sits down next to me.

"Just thinking. About us." I close my eyes tight, trying to hold back tears.

"Marky, why are you?"

"Please Rog, don't call me Marky."

"I'm sorry." He looks hurt, sitting next to me and puts his hand on my face. "I didn't mean to make you cry."

"You didn't, it's just me. Me and my stupid overactive mind." I wipe the tears away and pull away from his grip.

"Hey, Mark. I didn't…I mean…"

"No Roger, I really want to." I sigh and tilt my head down towards the bed. "I desperately want to even. It's just, I'm so afraid."

"I get it. And we don't have to." His eyes are full of sorrow yet pride, I can feel how much he cares for me.

"What I'm saying is that…I want you to, Roger. I love you and I want you." His smile has never been so happy or full of joy.

"You're sure?" He looks about to burst. I wonder what the effect would be if I said no now. He would burst into tears.

"Of course." My lips are crushed by his, and before I can even sink into the kiss he's pulled away. His hands are familiar on my body, but the butterflies in my stomach aren't.

"Mark…thank you."

"For what?"

"For loving me." He stares deep into my eyes. That's the moment that I know I have made the right decision. "I…" I put my palm up to his mouth.

"Shhh…kiss me, Rog." He smirks tenderly before connecting our mouths together.

--------- -------- -----------

Notes: oooooo what's going to happen? Lol. It took me awhile to write this chapter, and man, I was expecting it to be longer but I guess the part I have in mind will have to wait for chapter seven! I'll try to post it sometime over the weekend; hopefully I'll get two done over the weekend actually. Thanks for reading and reviewing, love you guys!


	7. Only Us

Okay, now I am in a completely awesome mood because I just heard that RENT is out at the budget, and I'm planning on seeing it at least three times this weekend. So, if I don't post for a while you know I am in a theater rocking out to the movie! But, the good thing is that I'm so happy right now that this chapter will hopefully be pretty good! Also, because I haven't done this before and I really love RENT, I would like to thank Jonathan Larson for just everything. Now to the writing…

---------- ----------- -------

Roger's POV

I knew I was asking a lot. At first I was really hesitant to even bring it up, but touching Mark, feeling him next to me just makes the urge stronger. There's so much shit that could go wrong, I don't even want to think about half of it. As soon as he agrees, all my inhibitions are thrown to the wind. All I care about in the moment is how I can pleasure him the most.

Usually when I am making love to someone, I'm quite selfish. But I want to make Mark happy. He deserves it. I don't deserve him. Those are the facts.

"Roger…" He groans as my lips trail down to his stomach, making an outline of saliva on his skin. "I…don't stop this time."

"I promise. Never." My lips rise back to his, kissing them warmly and letting our noses rub together. I never want to part from his kiss, it's so sweet, so soft, so loving.

Reluctantly, I break from his lips, just long enough to lift his shirt over his head. He does the same for me, only going at a faster pace. I want to soak in every moment, so I decide to slow down. I back away from his naked chest and just stare.

"Roger?" I look up at him and smile, and he looks at me confused.

"Slow. Be slow."

"Okay." He agrees, I can see it in his eyes. This is probably the only time we will get to experience this feeling, and it has to last. My lips travel to his neck, sucking lightly on every part I possibly can. I hear a brief gasp escape his lips, and I know I am doing something right. My hand grips to his shoulder, and I'm surprised to feel his hand accompany it soon afterwards. Our fingers stroke each other, and every once in a while I feel them shake if I hit the right spot.

Eventually my mouth travels down to his chest, and he slowly lies down on the bed, my stomach parallel with his legs. I lick lower and harder until I hit his rim of his jeans. I kiss his abdomen, asking for permission before cautiously unbuttoning them. I slide them down around his ankles, and toss them onto the floor. I begin to do the same with mine, when I feel Mark's hands insisting to do the work for me. He removes them and warily skims his palms over my thighs. I lay my hand on his chest, lightly pushing him to lie down again.

My mouth has gotten used to doing all the work, while my hands lay blankly at my sides. Mark's lips are so soft, his taste so sweet, I forget I have any body parts other than my tongue and lips. But then he reminds me. He grasps both of my hands with his and turns me onto my back, making him the one in control. Mark lying on top of me is like having twenty balloons on my chest. He weighs practically nothing.

"Mark, what are you doing?" I ask, thinking that I should probably be on top.

"I thought maybe I could…" He backs away from my face and looks dotingly down at me. "There would be less risk." I never thought of it before, but it's the perfect idea.

"That would be…" I can't even get out the words. For some reason his idea makes me want to confess my undying love to him. "I would…" I sigh and try for the last time. "Yea, Mark. I love the idea." He smiles and I take in a deep breath. Part of me is scared of it hurting. I know it's going to hurt, but is it going to be worth it?

"Do you have a condom?" He asks, whispering the word condom as if it will send him to hell.

"Yea, in my back pocket of my jeans." I look down at the floor, into the heap of our clothes. "That are now on the floor." I glance at him, hinting to get off. He picks himself up off of me, and before I know it, he runs into the other room. "Mark!"

"Yea?" He asks innocently.

"Where the hell are you going?"

"Hold on." He answers, and I pull the blue package out of my pocket. Throwing it on the middle of the bed, I see him coming through the door with a container of Vaseline in his hands.

"Oh." I stutter, and for the first time it occurs to me that Mark and I are going to make love.

"Just thought it would help. You and me." He smiles only a little before sitting back down on the bed. I join him soon after, almost reluctantly. He senses my fear and rubs his hand over my back. "It's okay Roger. I'm sure it won't hurt that much."

"No, I'm fine." I say, colliding lips with his and lowering myself down on the bed. I rip open the condom, and hand it to him.

"Thanks." He slips it on, my eyes following his every move.

When he enters me, I feel pain layered with pleasure. He goes slow, and stops when I wince the tiniest bit. At one point it gets annoying, but I appreciate that he cares.

"You okay?" He manages to moan, and I nod before feeling him move. The pain seems to slowly fade away, leaving only us. His hands move to my hair, gripping onto the back of my neck. My own fingers yearn for something of his to grab onto, but everything is blurry. At last I feel his hand connect with mine, and I sigh in comfort. Our fingers lock and I'm finally able to see clearly.

"Roger…" I hear briefly before his weight is resting on me. We're both breathless, our sharp intakes of air meshing with sweat and bliss. I see the sun making shadows on Mark's body, and realize that we can't just fall asleep in each other's arms. It's the middle of the day.

"Merry Christmas. I'm sorry I can't buy you something." He says. I can feel his breath, warm on my skin.

"I think this is gift enough."

"I think so too." He adds and begins to get up.

"Where are you going?"

"To get food. I have to give you something." I pull his arm so he lands on top of me.

"No! You don't have to get me anything. Lying here together would make me happy. It would be the best Christmas I've ever had." I wrap my arms around him before being pushed away.

"Roger, come on. You know we need something to eat in this house. If not for you then for me."

"Fine." I mope and allow him to go.

"I'll be back in an hour." He slides his shirt over his head and his jeans up to his hips.

"Are you crawling there?" I joke.

"No, I thought maybe I would film a little on the way there and back."

"Hurry! I need you here with me."

"My entire movie can't be of us in bed together. It's not porn."

"Why not? I'd watch it." He sticks his tongue out at me before leaving the room. I notice his glasses on the bed and wait patiently for him to sprint back to me.

He bursts into the bedroom and I laugh hysterically. I pick up his glasses and put them on.

"Are these what you're looking for?" He smiles and takes them off my face.

"God, am I glad you don't wear glasses." I roll my eyes before watching him leave once again.

----- ----------- ----------- ---------

Notes: Kind of just a nice, slashy chapter for the time being. I think this will be the final Pre-RENT chapter, but if I get a good idea, who knows? After seeing the movie four, yes four times this weekend I think I can stay pretty accurate to timing and everything. Thank you guys so much for the reviews on the last chapter! Also, in the middle of this chapter I wrote the story "Hurt, Anger and Tears" which is Mimi/Roger. So, go read&review that too! I couldn't help but write something nice about Mimi. I love her! Okay, until next time!


	8. Passionate in it's Own Way

Okay, I was wrong, this is my final pre-RENT chapter! I was thinking hard about it and it makes sense to tell this story and then jump into the movie. So sorry for the confusion but that is how it goes . I also dedicate this chapter and pretty much the rest of my chapters to Erin and Marit. Marit without you I would have never posted this or even had the courage to write it. Plus you are always there egging me on lol. And Erin for being the greatest friend ever. If you have any flaws, I have yet to see them. I heart both of you very much!

EvilEatingSanta, thanks so much for reviewing and for the help on ideas! **Big hug**

Okay, now finally to the writing!

------------------------------------

Mark's POV

The familiar feel of the cold, stinging air is almost too much to take, considering that I was warm in bed with Roger five minutes ago. It took all my energy to get up, moving away from his toasty hot skin just to get food. The sidewalk clicks underneath my torn tennis shoes as my camera beats rhythmically against my chest.

I stop at the same shop I had visited a while ago, smirking with my plans in mind. I walk up to the counter, itching the uncomfortable patch of fabric covering my neck. I only have five bucks on me, enough to buy my treat for Roger and get us some cereal.

"A chocolate chip muffin please." I say, realizing the man behind the counter has lips similar to Roger's. It makes me miss him, and I've only been gone for about ten minutes.

"Sure. It's buy one get one free today. Do you want two chocolate chip?" He smiles at me and I melt, thinking of Roger's pearly white teeth. I snap myself out of it just enough to answer him.

"Yea. Thanks." I smile back, and suddenly feel guilty and embarrassed that I'm obsessing over an employee. He slips my order into a white plastic bag and hands it to me. I begin to take out my money when I hear his voice above me.

"No, it's okay. You look starving. It's on the house." Great, now he looks like Roger and he's as nice as hell.

I leave hesitantly, looking back stealthily as I go, but my mind returns to Roger as soon as the worker is out of sight. My hand clasps the bag of muffins tight, and I beam with pride and anticipation. Roger will be so happy. Two muffins, for free.

I'm almost running down the street when I stop myself. Even though it's Christmas, I'm sure he won't care that much about the food. Maybe a part of me just wants to see him smile while eating. A part of me just wants to lay my hand on his while he looks at me with joy and fulfillment. It's not about sealing his empty stomach with baked goods.

The door opens swiftly, almost denting the wall next to it.

"Fuck!" I hear Roger yell before laughing at the frightened expression on his face.

"It's okay, it's only me." He quickly pulls off my coat, and hurls it into the nearly dented wall. "Roger, what the f…"

"Shhh…I just missed you." He embraces me softly, kissing my neck with gentle little pecks. "What'd you get?" He asks after letting me go and noticing the swinging bag in my hand.

"Food! You're gonna love it." It's as if he was electrocuted with delight while I was gone. His face lights up at any prospect of joy. He snatches the bag out of my hand and hastily pulls out the muffins.

"Mark! Muffins…thank you." He hugs me again, but this time I'm ready. My hands massage his back slowly as I feel his humid breath on my skin. Once we separate he flashes me one more smile before sitting down at the table, anxiously awaiting to eat his Christmas present.

"Roger, why are you so happy all of a sudden?" I ask, barely recognizing this side of him. Ever since I helped him through April's suicide, he has trouble smiling at all. Now he's having trouble stopping.

"I don't know. Just the thought of being with…" He stops, his face turning a shade of bright red and looks down at his hands on the table. "Never mind. I'm just so hungry." I walk over to him, lift up his chin and meet his eyes.

"I'm glad to be with you too." Our lips kiss lightly, but it still seems deep. Every one of our kisses is passionate in it's own way. "But I'm also hungry." I add, sitting down next to him and hurriedly stealing a bite of the muffin sitting in front of him.

"Asshole! You have your own!" He scoffs, and then reaches across the table to my face. His tongue, searching for a taste, invades my mouth without permission, but who could ever refuse Roger's tongue? He pulls back only a few inches and laughs. "Mmm…that's a good muffin." I can barely even chuckle before being forced back into a kiss. It's so forceful in fact that my entire body gives in, and I'm pushed back onto the table.

His weight is on top of me, but I can tell he's holding back. He always says how light I am, and I know he's afraid of crushing me. All the cold that was still left in my body from outside has now vanished. The stiff wood of the table seems like one hundred pillows underneath my writhing body.

Roger's hand is also intrusive; making it's way down the front of my pants and forcing me to break away from his mouth. I feel something on my back, but choose to ignore it for the time being. My hand grasps to the edge of the table, squeezing as hard as I possibly can, to hold out as long as I possibly can.

His lips remain on the side of my face, whispering mumbled nothings into my ear to soothe me. I feel my body begin to tense, and my hands jump to Roger's arms, feeling the large muscles beneath his green shirt.

Minutes later we lay in the middle of the table, Roger on top of me, messy and disgusting.

"Shit! You're lying on the muffin!" He yells, but can't help but break into laughter at the end.

"Damn it! Now I have to do laundry." He rests his head on my shoulder, laughing, and his hand frees itself from my pants. We lay like that for a while before he breaks our silence.

"I think that was a first."

"What?"

"Having sex on a muffin." I must have hurt his ear I laughed so hard. His kiss shut me up, even though it was hard not to laugh into his mouth.

Eventually he was able to lift himself off of me, immediately heading for the shower as I went to the bedroom to change. The gross part of me wanted to keep my dirty clothes on, just so I could smell Roger's scent on me all day. But the stain on the front probably wouldn't fly.

----------- ---------------------- ----------

8 pm

Roger finally tuned his guitar. It's a fucking miracle. When I came out of the shower I spotted him with it, and repressed a shriek. Instead I lunged at him, making him confused with a hug of pride.

I can tell he hasn't played in a while, but it doesn't matter. As long as he has sense enough to try.

"Do I sound horrible?" I glance over at him and intend to lie.

"No, it's not that bad. I mean come on, it's been a long time."

"So that's a yes." He winks at me and I return my focus back towards my camera. "What are you doing to that thing?" He asks, still strumming random chords with his fingers.

"I think I might walk around a little. Maybe shoot some Christmas Eve spirit."

"All right. I'll stay here and play. Or attempt that is." I grin at him before leaning over to kiss his lips. He doesn't let me go, but keeps my mouth hostage by hooking his tongue on the inside of my cheek. When he finally lets me go he sighs and I walk out the door.

Everything seems too perfect.

--------------------------------------------

Notes: Awwww! Oh, blah blah blah…. Did you see the beautiful return of the muffin! I was literally laughing as I came up with how to incorporate it! I think that might possibly be the final muffin chapter unless I can find some other crazy way to put it in. Thanks so much for reading guys and I come home everyday looking forward to your reviews so keep 'em coming! Love ya!


	9. Returning to the Past

Yay! A Roger chapter! I love to write Roger, it seems so much easier for some reason. Shout out to all my Adam Clan buddies! Which is like, three of you, but still. Anyone who wants to join the Adam Clan is welcome lol! Okay, I don't have much to say now so I suppose I shall write.

Keep in mind that this is placed after Roger and Mimi make that little eye contact on the balcony. But it's also before Light my Candle. Well, you'll catch on…

---------------------------------

Roger's POV Christmas Eve, 10pm

My fingers strum the guitar strings, randomly finding notes that seem to fit together. A song. A song to sing, that isn't gonna happen. I don't have the words in me. Maybe her. The quick glance got me thinking. I could barely see the color of her eyes, her hair, her skin. All I saw were her gleaming white teeth in the darkness of the night.

"I'm going to find Collins. Thought you might want to come. Maybe get some dinner afterwards." I look up from my guitar for only a second.

"Zoom in on my empty wallet." He smiles mischievously before commenting back.

"Touché." I'm ready for him to walk out, when he adds something. "Take your AZT." I sigh, knowing that he's right but I hardly want to admit it. I wanted so bad to get up and hug him before he left, it will probably be the last speck of warmth he feels for a while, but my guitar glues me down to the couch.

He's left, and I'm alone with my guitar. It seems too familiar. My fingers hit the chords just right, and my voice pounds out of my mouth.

"_I'm writing one great song before I…"_ Die. The word refuses to hear itself. Lyrics are punching themselves out of me, but that word just won't give. Or maybe I just don't want it to.

My fingers hurt so damn bad, I can't even finish the little tune I've made up. I sit up and sigh, looking out at the moonlight flickering through the stars. Maybe I'll go up to the roof. Part of me hopes that she is there.

---------------------------------

Later that night

Her stash. She was perfect until those little words. My mind jumped in shock when I heard it. Although what did I expect? She was shaking, and she looked exhausted. I guess I was just denying the truth, even though I knew it.

Her eyes were so full of life, so bright in the moonlight. Nineteen. I wasn't even that young. A dancer, a teenager, a lady, a junkie. She was everything I didn't need. But everything I did.

I don't know what I'm thinking. Now that I finally have Mark this has to happen. She has to happen. Mark is good to me, he does everything that I don't deserve. And this is exactly why I don't deserve him. Because now I'm destine to fuck him up, just like he told me not to.

When he gets home, I try to hold myself back from telling him about her. But I can't. I want to tell the truth so bad.

"Hey." I whisper when he walks through the door.

"Hello." He reaches over to peck me on the mouth, and I catch a whiff of his scent. So sweet, yet so different from hers.

"Couldn't find Collins?"

"Nah. Couldn't write a song?" He looks over in the corner to where my guitar now sits. It looks lonely and betrayed. But I intend to play it tomorrow.

"Nope." He smiles slightly before resting on the couch next to me. "Someone visited while you were gone. A girl."

"Oh?" He looks intrigued yet threatened.

"Yea. She's a dancer. At the Cat scratch club." I mistakenly let a smile escape my lips, and at that second, all joy in Mark's eyes vanishes. He knows where this is going. Even when I don't.

"What's her name?" He looks down at his lap, and I can see a reflection of the moon in his tears.

"Mimi."

"I have to go to bed. I'll see you tomorrow. Get some sleep please. You look exhausted." He gets up quickly, leaving me saddened and feeling incredibly guilty.

"Mark, she…nothing happened." I grab his wrist and he looks back at me with care before slowly pulling it off.

"I don't care. Maybe things would be better if it did."

"What? But…"

"Roger. I'm tired. I just want to sleep, just let me go to bed."

"No! I can't let you leave angry at me."

"I'm not angry. I just knew this was coming along." I did too. I didn't want to admit it, but I knew something would pull us apart. Everything was too perfect to stay the same. It seemed too soon, too fast.

"What was?" I pretend to be oblivious, maybe he is thinking something completely different. Although I highly doubt it.

"You, and me. Ending."

"What? Mark! Who said we were ending? I met a girl from downstairs and immediately this is over?" Now I'm off the couch, moving closer to his body with every heated word pouring from my mouth and mind. "I thought you loved me. I guess now we know how long that lasts."

"I do love you. So maybe that means I should let you do what's best for yourself."

"And what's that?"

"To move on from the past. Start a new life, free of heroin."

"But that's it Mark. She's…she…" My head drops towards the floor but it feels like it's just collided. Losing Mark would be unbearable, I couldn't free myself from heroin after that.

"She's what?"

"She's a junkie." His eyes fill with tears, and he runs into his room, slamming the door angrily behind him. He wants what's best for me, and here I am, returning to the past.

After a long time debating with myself, I finally decided to follow after Mark. He sits in his room, face dug deep into his pillow to try to drown out the sobs crying from his mouth. It almost makes me cry, to see that I could do such a thing to him.

"Mark?" The noises stop, and he turns his head away from me to face the window. "Mark, I'm sorry." He sniffles and takes a deep breath. But I can hear the sound of his tears shaking his body.

"Just go away." He whispers, barely audible. I know he doesn't mean it. He wants me to come to him, and I do too.

"No, I…I'm so sorry. Hearing you cry because of me is just the worst thing…I never meant to hurt you." I run my hand over his back, as my voice also begins to break from tears.

"Roger, if you want out of this just tell me. She's probably better for you."

"That's not possible." Now balls of salty water are pouring out of my eyes like a waterfall, and I lay down to kiss his spine gently. "I love you…I love you…" I sneak in between kisses, but I still feel his body tense beneath my lips.

"Roger, please just leave." My eyes shut tight, cringing at the pain of losing him.

"Mark…I love you so much." I plead, but nothing will break him.

"I just can't anymore. There's too much that has gone on, too much that's going to go on. It's too hard for us to be together when there's her, and all this shit we've gone through."

"She doesn't matter, Mark! You are the only one…" He puts his fingers to my lips, and I expect a kiss. Something I will miss dreadfully.

"Shhh...don't say that. It only makes this harder on me." He leans his forehead into mine and I break into uncontrolled tears and shaking. I want his arms around me, holding me, comforting me, but now I know I will never have that again. "Roger, it's okay. Mimi is better for you. She can…you can help her too. She needs your help." How can he possibly be talking about Mimi? It seems like he doesn't care about me at all anymore.

"Mark, I can't help her. I couldn't even help myself. Look at me now. Without you I'm nothing." I can hardly get words to come from my blubbering, dry lips, but somehow I manage to make them understandable.

"That's not true. You didn't have me before and…"

"And I became a junkie. I got AIDS."

"I'm still here. I'm still you friend."

"I don't want a friend." I lightly push his body away from mine and my tears are finally able to stop. "I want you to love me." His eyes were never full of such hurt, pain and regret. Now I'm not so sure. I'm not sure what I want anymore. Who I want. I could help Mimi or I could live easily and happily with Mark until I…

I fall asleep in his arms for the last time. My head moves up and down with his slow, rhythmic breaths, and when I wake up during the night, I cry at the feel of him. It's fucking worse than withdrawal. I can't possibly live without Mark now that I've had him. He's still sound asleep, but I take my chance and kiss his mouth, part of me hoping he will wake up to return the kiss. When he doesn't, I slide back down to his chest, lay my head down and fall back asleep. Asleep in my own puddle of tears.

"Roger?" I hear from the kitchen and I softly lift out of the bed and walk to the kitchen. Coffee is ready in the pot, and I pick it up along with two mugs, and set them on the counter. The phone rings.

"We've got power." I say, noticing at last that it was shut off last night.

"Ah, Merry Christmas." He gives me a fatigued and melancholy look before sitting down on the chair in the living room.

We listen to a long, rather humorous message from Mark's parents before he walks over to drink coffee with me. But before he can, I see a message inscribed in the window.

X-Mas brunch Just us? Mimi 

I laugh before looking awkwardly at Mark.

"It's the girl, downstairs."

"The dancer from the Cat Scratch club?" I nod, and read the message over and over again in my head. "You are going?" I shake my head and chuckle.

"No."

"Come on, Roger." Before he can give me a reason, or start another fight, we are interrupted by Collins coming through the door.

"Merry Christmas, bitches!" He yells, and for the first time since seeing Mimi, I am filled with joy. I watch as Collins and Mark embrace, and I try to seem cool and calm.

"Oh, hi." I studder.

"Oh, hi. After seven months?" He mocks and hugs, before pulling out an entire Christmas feast before our hungry, food deprivated eyes.

----------------

Two hours later

I'm home alone now, if you don't count my mind as a person. I think you could too, considering I am fighting internally with myself. Mark has obviously given up all hope that we will ever be together again. And it's hard to say that I haven't done the same. Mimi is starting to look like a good option for me. But kissing her, feeling her hands on me, looking into her eyes is just going to be painful every time. All I will think about is Mark's lips, his hands and his eyes. I still love him. No matter how pissed I am.

Collins has found someone, so maybe I can too. I don't even know if they are together. But I can tell. He needs Angel.

I need Mark.

I need someone.

I need a song.

I need to think.

I need to feel.

Maybe all I need is Mimi.

-----------------------

Notes: Just got back from seeing RENT again, and it just gets better everytime! I know that reference to Angel seemed a little like a desperate attempt just to slip her name in, but I'll mention her more later. Chapter ten coming soon! Maybe even tonight if you're lucky…


	10. Crashing Down

Okay, we've kinda skipped a couple weeks here in the time frame but it's pretty obvious when it is. You get a clue. All I'd like to say is that I am an Angel addict! I love her so much it's crazy. Other than loving Roger/Adam, Angel is my main woman! Lol!

Let the writing continue…

--------------------------------

Mark's POV

Seeing him with Mimi is like torture for the heart. Seeing him mope around the house, even though I know he's happy in some way. But I have to keep pushing. He needs Mimi, and she needs him. It's hard to believe that I was the one encouraging them to be together. I was the one pushing Roger to be with her, talking him into it, and getting them to meet whenever it was possible.

After Maureen's show, when we were at the Life Café, I wanted to lunge at him. Feeling him hug me, hearing the worry in his voice when I burst through the door. I tried to ignore all the signs that he cared, but it never works. Now he and Mimi and together. Roger is no longer up for grabs. Even if I didn't have him before, I could if I wanted. But now, he is Mimi's.

Sometimes being the same room with him is intolerable. He smiles at me like we are buddies, never to be intimate again. It's probably for the best. That's why I did this in the first place. Because it's the best for Roger. It's the best for Mimi. It's the best for me.

I think now that we have a huge group of friends, it's easier to hide myself between them. Occasionally staring at Roger isn't that hard when we are all together. I can sneak in little moments of depression and need without being noticed. However there is one way I can get noticed. If Angel is there.

She's so aware of everything I am thinking. She can sense when I'm looking at him, thinking about touching him, or sighing because I can't have him. I feel her fingers dance warmly on my back, rubbing up and down to soothe me. She knows, and to tell the truth, I'm glad.

"Honey, it's them now." She whispers in my ear as we wait for the ball to drop. Her blonde wig shimmers in the moonlight, and she holds her green purse with pride. White teeth show through the lipstick caked onto her mouth, and I nod at her. "He loves you though, I know it." I chuckle softly and deny it. He couldn't possibly.

"Sure." She frowns and then Collins taps her on the shoulder.

"It's almost time baby." He yells over the crowd. She smiles gleefully at him and then sweetly looks back at me. They are so in love, it's insane.

I watch as the countdown ends, and the New Year begins. I watch as Mimi and Roger kiss, Angel and Collins stare dreamily into each other's eyes, and Maureen looks ready to burst out of her cat outfit. How could anyone wear something that skin-tight? After letting everyone settle down, I pull my camera out and switch it on, pointing it towards Mimi.

"Mimi! Mimi!" She ignores me, too engulfed in the excitement of the night. "Mimi, gimme your New Year's resolutions." I ask, hoping inside that one of them will be to give Roger back to me.

"I'm giving up my vices. I'm going back to school."

"That's a good one." It's true. Maybe she does deserve him. Then I blatantly point the camera at Roger. "How about you, Roger?"

"Finish a song." He comments, and gives a little smile to the camera.

"Yea, maybe this year." I joke, not meaning to hurt his feelings, but he gives me the finger before plunging his mouth into Mimi's. I pretend to ignore it, even though it hurts like hell. Instead, I focus on what Collins and Angel are saying. I can tell they are both on the verge of being drunk, and it's only seconds after midnight.

"And Pussy Galore. In person." The camera shakes from my laughter, when I catch sight of Maureen in her costume. Joanne looks drunk as well.

------------------------------

Our stuff is all gone. Benny took all of our shit. I knew he was an asshole, but this is just pushing it. Roger and I borrowed a few blankets from Angel and Collins, even though they offered for us to stay there, but we refused to leave our loft. Well, I did anyway. Roger will probably be with Mimi, leaving me alone in the cold, damp, dark room.

"Should we light some candles?" He asks me, laying out two green blankets on the floor and propping a pillow against the wall.

"Umm…do we have any?"

"Sure, I could borrow some from Mimi...she…" He stops and sighs. I feel a talk coming on. One that I definitely don't want to partake in. Ever since we broke up I haven't felt much like talking. "Mark, are you okay?"

"What?"

"Well, you have been really quiet lately, and I was just wondering if…"

"No." I interrupt, making a last feeble attempt to scrounge my pride together. "No, I'm fine. I've just been tired a lot lately."

"Okay." He seems to accept it before lying down onto the hard wooden floor.

"You're staying here?" I ask innocently. I could have sworn he would stay at Mimi's.

"Of course. I live here don't I? Where did you think I would go?" He grasps his hands together and brings them behind his head, his body covered by the fuzzy, thin blanket.

"Well, to Mimi's. I thought you would want someone to keep you warm tonight." I look down at my feet and imagine him holding me in his arms as we shiver together. "What with no heat and all."

"I have you don't I?" He smiles, but I find nothing funny in making a joke about us. I grab a pink blanket off the floor and spread it out, far away from where he has set up camp. I'm without a pillow, as he has used it for where he expected I would sleep, but I don't really care. "Mark what are you doing?" He sounds worried, and I finally hear his voice tremble from fear. "I'm sorry. Please. This is the only night I have away from…"

"What?" I turn my head towards him and he crawls over beside me.

"Mimi."

"What do you mean?" I ask again, I don't want to get the wrong impression. His body lies down next to me, and I feel his breath on my neck. It's so familiar; I've missed it so much.

"I mean I want to be with you right now, not Mimi." His lips make contact with my neck, and tears feel like spraying out of my eyes. But I hold them back, and I use my hands to push him away from me.

"Roger! I told you that Mimi is better for you."

"But ever since…I feel like you completely forgot we were even together! You act like you just want to be friends and forget we ever happened!" He screams and I see the hurt in his eyes. He does still love me.

"I didn't forget! I think about it every time I see you! Every time Mimi touches you, it rips away at me! I can't stand…"

"Then why are we apart?" We're both standing now, but our distance is substantial.

"I don't know. I…but now Mimi…" My voice breaks between words. I've screwed everything up. I had Roger, and I pushed him away.

"I love her. I really do. But I don't know if I would choose her over you." His words sound like poetry, flowing out of his mouth and into my ears like warm soup. He moves slowly closer to me, laying a hand on my shoulder and I let it stay. "I try to ignore it, but it's too hard. Mimi and I…"

"Don't say it. Don't say we should be together, Rog." I stop him even before he hints at it.

"Why not?" He takes a step away from me. I am so confused by the way my mind works. If I really love him, then why won't I let myself be with him? Something inside me wants Mimi to be happy so bad that I will deny myself happiness.

"Mimi. She loves you. I can see it every time she looks at you."

"If she loves me, wouldn't she want me to be happy?"

"You seem happy with her." He puts his thumb on my chin and lifts my face up, so that we are eye to eye.

"I'd be happier with you." I look away. I know if our eyes met again, I would give in to his lips. But I have to be strong. I can't do what I want right now.

"No, Roger." I break from his grasp and walk further from him. "Mimi is right for you."

"Why can't you just fuckin' let me decide what to do for once? I don't have to listen to everything you say. And I say, that we should be together."

"It's my decision too." The words won't let themselves come out of my mouth. It hurts so much I can barely stand the pain in my head. "And, I don't want to be with you." Hearing it out loud stings my ears. Somehow I keep myself from looking up at Roger. I'm too afraid to see how hurt he is.

"Mark." He persuades my eyes to meet his, and when I do I see compassion. "I know you're lying." Damn it.

"What?" I ask, trying to sound like I'm not. He can see right through me.

"I know you love me."

"I…"

"Mark, please." His voice is desperate and begging, and holding back from his touch is the hardest thing I have ever had to do in my life. "I love you. Please."

"Roger…"

"God, Mark!" He forces his mouth into mine, into the most passionate kiss we have ever had. I don't dare resist, I need this so much. He thrusts me hard into the window and I feel his chest press against mine. My hands throw themselves out to the sides, and his soon follow. He lifts them up above my head, and I feel my shirt being torn off of my body.

"Holy shit..." I whisper. I can tell he is frustrated. Our tongues tangle roughly in my mouth, his twirling against the side of my cheek, begging to make contact with mine. "Roger!" I finally gain control of my thinking, and push his harshly away from me.

"I'm sorry." He apologizes when I least expect it. I was expecting him to run to his room, or to Mimi. But he stands in shock, breathing heavily and wiping saliva off of his chin.

"Maybe you should spend the night with Mimi." I hope he doesn't take my suggestion. I hope so much. I want him to convince me to do this, convince me that Mimi will be okay. I would believe it if he would just talk me into it.

"I…don't want to, Mark. I'll just wish it was you." He lies down on the blanket and before long I can hear sobs taking over his body. I hesitate before joining him, and pressing my body into his back. My face joins with his, grazing along the coarse hair on his chin. He needs a shave.

"I'm sorry." I whisper, and wrap my arms tightly around him. "I love you." My lips meet with his ear and his hands search for mine in the dark. When they find each other, our fingers entangle and I can barely tell which ones are mine. The feeling of Roger close to me, aligned with my body is all I ever needed this past month.

"You do?"

"Of course. But…" He sighs and grips my hand tightly.

"But…"

"We can't. It's just too hard." He turns around so we are facing each other. His thumb rubs my chin, and I see tears at the brim of his eyes.

"What are you so afraid of, Mark?" The question floods my mind, and suddenly I can't think anymore. He knows me way too well. What am I afraid of? Why do I believe that Mimi and Roger are so much better together than him and I? I feel like if I get too close… "I'm not going any…" His words cut like a knife, and both of our breaths catch at once. That's the problem. His is going somewhere, and so is Mimi. But I'm not. Someday, I will be alone, without Roger. That is what scares me.

"I don't want to lose you." Our foreheads touch briefly, and then I back away. I feel the need to have space.

"I know."

"So, you and Mimi are…"

"Better." He finishes my sentence with a sound of longing. We both wish it didn't have to be this way.

His hand moves down to mine, and we fall asleep in each other's arms.

--------------------------

"Roger?" I shake him lightly, almost as though I don't want to really wake him up. The sun stings my eyes, and I feel the dried tears sticking to my face. Roger doesn't budge, so I cautiously take hold of his hand in mine. I take care in weaving our fingers together, cherishing the feel of his skin against mine before he is Mimi's forever. Soon, my hand will be replaced with hers.

His eyelids quiver, and I drop his hand in fear. Although, I doubt he would really care if he caught me. It would just make everything more difficult.

When he finally wakes up, he gives me a tiny smile before leaving my arms.

"Maybe I should go to Mimi's."

"If you want." Meaning that I don't want him to, but it will be better.

"What are you going to do by yourself with nothing in the loft?" He picks up his jacket off of the floor and swings it around his shoulders, slowly letting his arms dig their way into the sleeves. I look around at the empty room and sigh.

"I have no idea. Maybe I'll go out and film a little. I have that meeting for Buzz line later today."

"Oh yeah. Good luck."

"Mmm...thanks." He walks over to me, wrapping his arms around my waist. At first it scares me, but I eventually just sink into it.

"I'll…I'm…" His mouth hangs open, and I lay my finger in front of it.

"It's okay. I think we said it all last night." Our eyes connect, and I never want to let go. Reluctantly, I let him slide out of my grip and he heads through the door. But not without a loving smile.

I rest my body against the wall and bury my face in my hands. I want him back so bad it hurts. But Mimi. I'm so afraid. It seems everything is crashing down on me, and I don't have the one person who could possibly make it better. Roger.

---------------------------

Notes: This chapter took a while to type considering that I had a major case of writer's block and I got caught up reading another story, which I intend to finish! Hope you liked it, it was so hard for me to write because I want them together. Alas, I cannot have what I want at the moment. Review! I love them!


	11. Withdrawal

Yea...pretty much falling asleep on the keyboard from the major lack of sleep, but I have waited the entire day to get on the computer and write, so I shall. Hope you like the next chapter, I can't say it's much happier than the last one, but it may change!

Time is set during the whole "Without You" montage.

------------------------

Roger's POV

Goddamn Benny. He took all of our shit, now it's back. For once I was content with something he had done. Then, I find out something that makes me hate him even more than before. First I lose Mark, then I find out he got to the only thing I do have. Mimi. Now whenever I see her, the only thing I want to do is drill her with questions. But she doesn't need me to be an asshole right now. She needs me there for her.

I don't know if I'm in the best shape to be helping a junkie, having been one myself at one point. Mark and I have become distant, almost cold. He was the thing keeping me strong, my support. Now my support has snapped, pulled quickly away. I tried to catch my balance, but in a way Mimi is dragging me down further. I love her, but she's not the one I'm meant to be with. She's meant to be my friend.

"Shhh…" I grip her in my arms tightly, trying my hardest to suppress her shivering. I remember withdrawal only briefly. The feeling of nausea, desperate need, and giving anything just to stick a needle in your arm. I fear I lost that feeling only to see it transfer to Mimi. The sweat beads on her body shimmer in the light of the moon.

"I can't…Roger…oh…it hurts so ba…" Mimi releases herself from my body and grips her hands tightly to the couch. She throws up without warning, all over the floor and makes sounds unbearable to the human ear. Her deep, gulping breathes of air force her to get sick again, and all I can do is hold her hand. I feel so helpless. I understand her pain, but all I remember from that point was Mark. He always gave me a look of hope, telling me I could get through it, I could stay alive. How did I end up being that person, when my mind is unstable too?

"Baby, it's okay. I know it hurts, but it will all be over soon." I rub her back lovingly, as she squirms in pain. I can feel her bones jutting into my chest, her legs so skinny you can break them with your bare hands. "Mimi…" I want to break out into tears but realize how incredibly selfish that would be. My emotions are bottling up quickly, and I need to vent.

"Roger, don't…" Her chest rises and falls faster than it should, but before long, it keeps a steady pace. She's finally asleep. My eyes sting with fatigue but my mind won't satisfy them. As soon as they fall, the opening of Mark's door disturbs me.

"Oh." He sees the mess all over the floor, and I rub my forehead in frustration.

"Mark, how did you do it?" My eyes close again, and I hear footsteps go to the kitchen.

"Do what?"

"Not go crazy while I was going through this?" My vision directs toward Mimi, and my mind makes a mental note to clean up the mess sprawled out on our empty floor.

"Oh." I open my eyes and slip out from under Mimi's emaciated form.

"I can't do it anymore. It's impossible." I sigh, as if Mark can help me.

"Roger, you just have to be there. All she needs is someone to tell her it's okay. Even if it's not." He walks to the counter, setting his elbows down.

"She's so damn…I don't know."

"Fucked up?" He mumbles, finding the perfect words.

"Yea." I hate to let a laugh come, but I can't stop it. "Didn't you feel helpless? Watching her shake and cry seems inhuman."

"What else can you do?" I want to tell him how much I need him again.

"Nothing." My eyes focus on his weary ones. "That's what I hate the most."

"I hated it too. Seeing you in pain, and all I could do was hold your hand."

"Well, it worked, whatever you did. All I remember from then is you. Your hand in mine." I sneak over to where he is sitting, but I don't dare to make contact with him. It's just an endless cycle leading nowhere. We've been through that more times than I prefer.

"That's good. I always felt you wanted more out of me. Like I was making it worse."

"No way." I scoff, and hear Mimi rustle on the firm couch. I rest my finger on my lips, warning Mark to be quiet, and he nods in agreement. "I wouldn't have been able to get through it without you helping me." I gaze down at his hand, and briefly consider grabbing one of them. My mind shakes the thought, and all I do is lie my hands down on the cold metal. "That's why I'm afraid of messing Mimi up more. I am all she has to lean on."

"You're doing fine. Just don't give up." He smirks, boosting my self-confidence to the stars. He always has that effect on me; he makes me feel like I'm floating to the moon.

"Kay."

"Do you need help with that mess?" He plugs his nose, and I suddenly realize the nauseating smell coming from the floor.

"Oh, fuck. No, I got it. I might need help cleaning up when I puke from whiffing that shit. Jesus Christ!" I walk carefully over to the couch, covering Mimi's vibrating body with Angel's pink blanket. Then, reluctantly, I rip paper towels off the roll, and begin to wipe up the mess. I feel light-headed from the smell, about to pass out into it. That thought makes me feel sick, and suddenly I'm able to steady myself.

"I'll help you. Stop being so stubborn." I see Mark out of the corner of my eye, bending down to wipe up the remains of…it.

When we're all done, I sigh in disgust, not believing I actually cleaned up waste of another person. Gross.

"You should get some sleep. It's almost one and you look exhausted." I say to him, noticing huge black circles appear under his eyes.

"Sure. Do you need to talk anymore?" He looks hopeful, and if I weren't so fucking tired, I would stay up with him all night long.

"I wish I could, but I should sleep too before Mimi wakes up." I think it's gotten to the point where we know we want to be together. The only thing in the way is Mimi. That's the biggest roadblock we could have.

"Roger…"

"Yea?" I groan, sliding underneath Mimi once again, her skin moist and freezing against my clothes.

"Do you think, me and you…could still…"

"What about Mimi?" I unravel myself a final time from her body, returning to a stand up only seconds after I sat down.

"I don't know. Will she really know?"

"I don't know if I'd feel…somewhat guilty…" Going behind Mimi's back would make me feel horrible about myself. Maybe if I told her. Maybe she would understand. I still love her, I still want to be there for her.

"Sorry, I don't want to get into this whole thing again. It was stupid." A smile spreads meekly across his face as he shifts towards his room, ready to call it a night.

"No, wait." I run warily to his side, grasping him by the wrist and twisting him to face me.

"Roger, I'm fucking tired as hell. I wanna sleep. Can't we just talk about this tomorrow? I'm not in the mood to be rejected." I'm thrown into shock. So, I decide to surprise him by wrapping my arms around his waist. He begins to pull away, when my hands fall to his ass. "Roger…Mimi is on the couch."

"Yea?" My lips curve into a smile, and he leans forward, expecting to meet my lips. But they are already on his neck, nibbling at the spot where his shoulder meets his chest.

"Roger…" He's moaning my name now, but I can tell he's holding back. Mimi is asleep practically feet away from us. But it feels good, knowing we could get caught. When my lips slip down to the dent in his throat, where his neck is vulnerable, he bites my shoulder to keep cries in.

My tongue works it's way gracefully up the ridges of his throat, vibrating along with his noises. Now I'm exciting myself. I grab hastily onto his shoulder, pushing my thumb into his bone, and using it as leverage to rise up to his ear.

His hands stay steady at my waist, but when my hot breath connects with his cheek, they are forced to move to my chest. Before I know it, my shirt is unbuttoned, hands colliding with my skin, allowing me to bite Mark's earlobe in pleasure. His fingers move around to my back, the tips only making contact with my skin at certain moments.

"Ahh…" I dig my face into his shoulder, repressing shivers and moans, hiding them in his body. Our breathing connects, and I feel his stomach rise and fall at the same speed as mine. "Mark…Mimi's right…" I mean to stop him, but I won't let myself. Denying myself this much pleasure has to be wrong.

"We should stop." He sounds like he's kidding, but I know he isn't. This is enough to last us until the next time Mimi is asleep.

"S..ssure." My breathing slows, and Mark's hand caresses my face to settle me. Our lips haven't met the whole time, and my mouth is yearning for attention.

"Roger?"

"Mhmm?" I mumble, focused on his hand sliding along my cheek.

"I don't want to hurt Mimi like this." My eyes search for his in the dark, and I understand.

"I know. But, she would understand. If she knew how much…"

"We mean to each other." I nod, and at last I'm able to reach his lips. They are dry, cracked, but still covered in new saliva. My tongue is impatient, probing his mouth open for entry, before plunging itself inside. I bite his bottom lip softly, prompting his fingers to grip onto the back of my neck for a deeper kiss. His teeth are sharp, rigid and cold, but I try to focus on the meeting of our tongues. He breaks away too soon, leaving me wanting more.

"Roger…" He sighs, and points to the couch where Mimi lies in her own puddle of sweat and tears.

"Sorry. Good night." I embrace him quickly, before leaving his grip to return to Mimi on the cushion of the couch.

I watch her shake and hold her hand, even when she doesn't know I'm there. I can still be there for her and be with Mark. Can't I?

-------------------------------

Okay, you know how much I love writing fluff, and originally this was going to be a two parter, but I took too much room writing fluff, so we will save the next part for Mark to explain. Hope you like it as much as I loveooooeodjfle writing it! Again, to state..I'm so in love with Mimi. She is awesome, and I feel so horrible for making her out to just be a sniveling junkie who is in the way, but…ergh! I just wanna say I love her! Lol, ok now bed…I'm falling asleep!


	12. Angel Was Right

Oh my God! I get to see RENT, the play next month and I am ecstatic! It will be the first time I see the play, and I am so excited! Now I can be an even bigger Renthead. Even though it is obviously not with the original cast, just seeing it will be amazing. Awww Anthony Rapp…such a big cutie. I just want to hug him, and I want to lunge at Adam. Adam is definitely a major hottie. Okay, enough of my rambling. Next chapter!

Disclaimer: I know, you probably figured this, but it's Jonathan Larson's…

--------------------

Mark's POV

I can tell Roger still loves Mimi. But when he's looking into my eyes, wrapping his body warmly around mine, I really don't give a shit. Sneaking behind her back is killing him slowly, as if it were AIDS. I see the hurt in his eyes every time she knocks on the door and we are lying in bed together. When she barges in while we are slipping each other kisses on the couch.

She's been clean for a little while now, withdrawal still thriving against her. So, I doubt she would remember if she walked in on us. But guilt stabs me every time Roger and I are together.

The group is slowly splitting. Angel is in the hospital, Maureen and Joanne refuse to speak, Mimi is unable to talk to anyone, and Roger and I are tucked away in our own little world. My mind denies the fact that Angel is so sick. Losing her would tear the insides out of me. Then the group would implode. Angel is our center, the thing holding us together, no matter how weak the attachments are.

The bedsprings jut into the flesh of my side as we lie, tired as hell on Roger's bed. You think eleven hours of sleep would have rendered us able to get up, but as usual, we are useless. The tips of Roger's fingers glide along the inside of my palm, and I feel his breath, hot on the top of my head.

"Wanna get up?" He mumbles, finally clasping our hands together and laying them on his chest.

"Not particularly." My eyes close again, barely able to stay open in the first place.

"Good. I wouldn't have let you anyways." His grip around my waist is tighter, pulling me directly against his stomach. I can hear it rumble, but try to ignore it. It will make me think of our lack of food.

"What time is it?" I ask after a long silence.

"What makes you think I know?"

"I don't know. I was just making conversation."

"Then ask me about my guitar." I smile, proud of my musician. _My musician._ The thought makes me smirk and fear at the same time. I don't like having this much to lose.

"How are things with your guitar?" I mock, and he lets his arms fall from around my body onto the mattress around him.

"I don't really have an answer for that. Good, I suppose. Still don't have material to write about. Other than…" I sit up when I hear him stop, and graze his jaw with my index finger.

"What?" His eyes have avoided me until now, but they are filled with truth and sorrow.

"Well…you." Smiling is not enough at this point. I'm so filled with joy that I could jump circles around anyone.

"Rog…"

"No, you can't hear them." He stops me before I begin my point, but he was right on track. He knows me too damn well.

"What? Why not?" Our mouths touch lightly, and I feel only the tip of his tongue make contact with my lips before pulling away.

"Because…they are too…I'm embarrassed." He looks so sweet when he is shy. His cheeks turn bright red, and I kiss him playfully on the forehead before positioning myself comfortably back in his arms.

"What are we doing?" I feel his muscles tense against my skin, but the question had to be asked.

"What do you mean?" There is shakiness to his voice, something of a combination of fear and anxiety.

"I'm scared. Scared of anyone finding us together." His hug becomes loose, and I can tell he wants to get away from me.

"Then why are we together? If you are…"

"Did I say that I don't want to be with you? All I said is that I'm scared."

"Why?"

"Because of this sneaky shit. I'm sick of having to hide you. Hiding the fact that I want to hold your hand in front of everyone, and kiss you when I realize how much I love you." I feel his eyes beating on my face, but I can't look at him. I'm embarrassed, if he doesn't feel the same way it will kill me.

"I don't want to hide either. But Mimi will be destroyed if she knew…"

"Then why are we doing this? You're just going to end up hurting her in the end." My hand comes to his face, ready to wipe away any tears that may appear.

"I know…but…I can't…" He looks down at the bed, pinching the white sheets between his index and middle fingers. "…not be with you." His green eyes sparkle in the brightness of the sun, and I completely agree with him. Even though it means hurting Mimi, I can't give him up.'

"We're just going around in circles. You have to pick one of us." He shoots me a look of pure anger and hate. Making him choose is a horrible thing for me to do, I don't know why that came out of my mouth.

"What? I can't pick, you know that."

"I'm sorry. I know."

"But I do love you." He smiles to give me some reassurance, and I take it with a little hesitance. To tell the truth I don't know what I would do if I were in his situation.

"I love you too." He kisses my chin then leans his face against mine. I want to hold these moments into my mind forever. I know they won't last long.

We fall asleep again, but this time only for a short time. I wake up exhausted, but decide food will probably help. I get up slowly, trying my best not to disturb the still unconscious Roger. My eyes burn as I walk out into the cold living room, very different from the temperature of the gap between Roger's arms. I rub my hands together to gain heat, and open the cupboards to find nothing but air and cobwebs.

"Uch…shit." I sigh, and look around for any sign of something edible in the kitchen. At last I spot a box of Cap'n Crunch on the table and claim it as fast as I can. It feels fairly full. Maybe Roger made a trip to the store without telling me.

"What's that? Cereal?" The groggy voice comes from the bedroom door in the form of a shivering, yawning Roger.

"Yea. You didn't buy it?" He reaches for it, stealing it from my grip before I can allow myself to let go.

"Nope. Maybe it was left over from the last trip to the store."

"And it jumped to the table overnight?" His eyes roll and he opens the box to begin eating. However my hand makes it there first, and I'm able to snag a few pieces. All he can do is scoff, and wait for a gap to fit his hand in.

"God, I'm so fucking tired."

"Me too." We sit at the table, Roger lifting up his feet to rest on the table in front of my face. My mouth is chocked full of as much cereal as I can fit, but I attempt to make conversation. "Maybe we foud go vifit…" I finally swallow and finish my sentence. "Angel."

"Mmmm…yea, maybe. Mimi will want me to today anyways." I can tell he doesn't want to see Angel, but thinks he should go. He has never handled death the same as any of us. It eats away at him, but instead of talking about it, he keeps it all in his head. I never know what Roger's thinking.

"Think you should check on Mimi?"

"What time are visiting hours?" He ignores my question and I decide to let it go. Mimi isn't really my favorite topic.

"Umm…I'm not really sure. I'll call Collins later. Maybe we should just go tomorrow and…hang out here today."

"Sure." His hand creeps over to my thigh underneath the table, and I'm quick to hold it. At least I can do it with no one around. I almost wish that everyone were here to see us holding hands. I want everyone to know I'm his. I'm a little too proud. "We need some more blankets in here. I don't understand how it can be colder in our place than outside."

"Me neither." I scoot my chair to snuggle up to his body, even though it is probably freezing. But Roger always seems warm to me.

"You wanna go back to the bed? It's warm." He's practically luring me into bed with him, but I have to give in. Who wouldn't?

"Yes." His eyebrow raises, and he flashes me a smile while walking back to the bedroom. The bed bounces him up and down when he jumps on it, followed by me, and I'm back in his arms in mere seconds. Something clicks, but I try to ignore it. Our loft is so creaky; it's hard for anything to register as important noises.

"Should we fall asleep or talk?"

"Are those our only choices?" I look up to see him giggling, before placing a soft kiss on the bottom of his chin.

"Well…no but…" He returns the peck with a real kiss, against my chapped lips. Roger's lips always seem to be moist and sweet, no matter how cold and dry it is. He is an amazing kisser, letting his tongue do all the work inside of my mouth. Then I realize I am probably shitty at it in his opinion. Most of the time I just lie back and enjoy. So, this time I will try to take control, letting him relax for now.

He groans when I force his tongue from my cheek, pressing mine into his mouth. I lift myself out of his arms, pushing him to lie down on the bed, on top of the feathery pillow he slept on. My hands work as leverage to keep from squashing him underneath my weight, even though he says I don't weigh much.

Lips, hands, chests, stomach, skin, everything touching and sliding and rubbing at once. I'm caught up in the moment, I don't even notice when Roger takes control of the kiss again. I figure I should let him, since he's better at is anyway. I feel his light hair brushing against my forehead, tickling my eyelids.

"Roger, Mark? Where the h…" Collins comes through the door, a grocery bag in his hand and a shocked look on his face. Shit. Roger and I lunge away from each other at once, as if that is going to make a difference now. He has already seen us. The part of me that wanted someone to see us is surprisingly upset right now.

"Shit, Collins…" Roger whispers, barely inaudible for me let alone Collins.

"Guys, what…you guys…I…" Then he does something that strikes me to my very core. He laughs. Chuckles, giggles, scoffs and cackling all comes from his mouth, and for one second I believe he has gone insane. I sit on the bed, frozen, while Roger watches in confusion from the other side of the bed. While we wait for Collins to say something, Roger slides over to me, leaning his back against mine.

"Collins?" I say softly, seeing if I can get him to calm down.

"Yea?" He's still laughing, but now it has repressed.

"Why are you…what…do you think?" He stares at me with a huge smile spread across his lips.

"I think…that Angel was right. I never thought she was serious. You two…" Roger backs away from me, anger taking over his face.

"Angel? Angel knows, Mark?" His eyes stare me down, and I feel backed into a corner.

"Well…yea. She knew when we weren't together for that little time. She kinda just guessed it, I wasn't hidden enough I s'posse."

"Oh." He looks down, the anger gone and replaced with melancholy.

"We've been friends for so long, you two only decided now you want to be…" Collins stops, hoping we will finish for him.

"Guess so. But Mimi…" Roger looks up for guidance; I know he has always confided in Collins to help him through problems.

"Oh. Mimi. Well, maybe she will understand. Are you guys just fooling around or is it…" He uses his hands to explain, and Roger looks into my eyes to find an answer. Collins has asked what we don't know ourselves. What are we? I open my mouth slowly, preparing an answer quickly, when I hear Roger stutter.

"Well, we…I mean…I love him." I feel his hand on my shoulder, and see Collins face turn red.

"Guys don't make me blush." Roger smiles, but not in his usual way. This smile is proud and gentle, almost embarrassed. I have never seen him so vulnerable other than during withdrawal.

"Shut up." I snap, almost out of awkwardness. It's weird to be this way with Roger in front of someone else. Although it is what I wanted. "How is Angel?" I decide to change the subject, not just to get off Roger and me, but because I really care about Angel.

"All right. She has been sleeping most of the day, and she said I should go out and get some air and some food. I decided to drop by to give you guys some cereal."

"Oh, thanks man." Roger praises, his mouth foaming from hunger. He's still hungry after devouring that whole box of Cap'n Crunch. He leans his head against my shoulder and lays his hand on my leg. I turn my head and kiss him, pretending not to notice Collins watching us intently.

"I love you." I whisper in his mouth so Collins can't hear, and I see a smile curve onto Roger's lips.

"Why don't I leave you two alone?" Collins senses we want to be alone, and does something about it. "I should probably get back to Angel anyway."

"Should we come visit tomorrow? Or tonight?" Roger asks, placing a hand on my neck to make sure I know he wants to continue the kiss when he's done talking.

"Tomorrow would be fine if you want. She needs some time alone tonight I think." All of our moods drop, knowing that these are Angel's last days. I don't want to think about it so much, my mind blocks it out. The emotion won't hit until she's…gone.

"We will be there. Just call when you want us to come." I add, trying to make my contribution to the conversation.

"All right. I guess I'll see you guys tomorrow. Have a…good time." He laughs, before slowly making his way out the door.

There is a long silence before Roger finally decides to break it.

"Well…now Collins knows."

"Yea. But what about Mimi?" I hear him sigh and look over to see tears beginning to stream down his face.

"I don't know Mark. I love both of you." I take him into my arms, kissing the top of his head and rocking him softly.

"I'm sorry. You don't have to choose. If this is too much then…"

"Mark stop fucking trying to break up with me. You're stuck with this bumbling, crying pansy." He makes me laugh at the weirdest moments. That's why I love him so much.

Notes: I feel like I'm just making chapters into useless nothingness but yea…don't have much to say. Next chapter will hopefully come faster than this one, but I'm not making any promises.


	13. Too Much

I don't really have much to say right now, I just got a sudden urge to write, so I am writing. Aren't ya glad? Well, that sounded kind of arrogant so I'm just going to write and shut up. XD

Disclaimer: Jonathan Larson's…he is my idol and my God.

------------------- ----------------------

Roger's POV

"Mark, I'm leaving to see Mimi." I figure I will meet her outside after work, hopefully without her friends. They are all junkies, people I'd rather not hang out with.

"All right. I'll be here when you get back." He sits on the couch, eyes closed and barely moving.

"Aren't you going to kiss me good-bye?" I pout, and see one of his eyes open. Yet, he still refuses to leave his comfortable position.

"Mmm…too comfy and warm." He moans, hinting he wants me to come to him. I follow his order, drifting over to the couch and leaning my lips into his. "Roger, don't leave. Come lay here with me." The offer is too tempting, I almost consider it, but I have to find Mimi. I haven't seen her in a day, long enough for her to start using again.

"Ugh, Mark! Fuck I want to…." I begin to lie next to him when my brain forces me to move away. "No, I have to find Mimi." He giggles at my self-confusion and shuts his eyes again.

"Bye Roger." I look back to see him sitting up now, a look of longing in his eyes.

"Don't stare at me like that. I'm still gonna leave." I try my hardest not to look him in the face, I know he will persuade me to snuggle with him. Mimi has never had that kind of effect on me, she never makes me doubt my own decisions.

"Fine." He slouches back down, arms crossed over his chest in disappointment.

"See ya later, Marky." I say before grabbing the doorknob to shut the door.

"Fuck you. You know I hate it when you call…" I slam the door. I don't need to hear him complain about his pet name again.

It's getting pretty warm out, I don't even need to shove my hands into my pockets to warm them up. I let my fingers dangle at my sides, feeling the warm air glide through them. I look up to see the moon shining down on me, and finally spot the Cat Scratch Club. Mimi walks quickly out of the front door, and I begin to run up to her, when I see her head straight into an alley. Fuck.

My emotions catch hold, and I stop in my tracks. Do I want to know the truth? It will destroy me to know that she is using again. After all the shit I have done for her she doesn't give it up. I want to blame Mark for distracting me, but Mark has nothing to do with this. I'm just looking for someone to pin it on instead of myself.

Steps take themselves now, I feel totally out of control of my body. I move quicker, eventually reaching the end of the alley to see Mimi and another man. I almost wish she were fucking him instead of getting drugs. Then I see a small object being passed between their hands, money. I feel tears coming, but for once I'm able to hold them back. All I want to do now is scream at her.

She finally sees me, trying desperately to hide the bag of heroin behind her back. The attempt is pathetic, she knows I have already seen it. Screaming, crying, pleading, begging, refusing, yelling, apologizing, but nothing is good. Nothing seems to make sense. It all blends into a ball of chaos that neither of us can understand. All I know is that I'm betrayed.

"No! No!" She screams in my face as I chuck the little bag at her and storm angrily away. Anger doesn't even explain what I'm feeling. I want to kill her, but I want to know why she would do this to me.

I never want to turn around. I never want to see her face again, looking seductively at me. Those big brown eyes shining with love and pleasure. The only pleasure she gets is from heroin.

I walk around the city for a while, afraid to face Mark now. All I'm going to do when I get home is cry in his arms. I don't know if I'm strong enough to be that vulnerable. At least I know he is waiting for me when I get home, I have someone there, ready to hear all the shit that's wrong with me.

Why would she do this? I don't understand, I know it's all so painful, but she has me. Am I not enough for her? Then I realize I am doing the same thing to her. She would be thinking the same thing about me if she knew. Why would I betray her with Mark? Is she not good enough for me? It's an endless chain.

I can stop it all. I can break it off with Mark for good, and go back with Mimi to get her clean permanently. During my mourning period, I will help someone build strength. That doesn't sound like the best plan.

I finally make it back to the loft, every few seconds turning back. I don't know if I actually want to go inside or not. Confessing what all happened will force me to cry. Force me to break down into Mark's arms, but that wouldn't be that bad. Mark knows how to take care of me when I need it.

My hand turns the doorknob, and I see Mark, asleep on the sofa, in the same exact spot that I left him. Maybe I just shouldn't wake him to bother him with this stupid news. I'm sure it could just wait until tomorrow. So I slip my jacket off, wiping the tears gently away from my cheeks in case he does see me. I walk over to the couch and pick up Mark's light body. He doesn't even budge but just goes limp at my touch. I take him into the bedroom, removing his shoes and making myself comfortable next to him.

The sheets cover both of our bodies, and I grasp his hand in mine, looking for some support. Mark wraps his arms around me, still asleep, but conforming to me next to him. His grip makes me feel secure and I sink quickly into it. My head leans against his chest and I'm able to drift into a sleep, something I doubted I could ever do again. The look of Mimi, tears streaming down her face and pleading for forgiveness will forever be in my memory. I have learned to block out memories from my mind. I could still see the picture of April dead crystal clearly if I wanted to. Why I would want to is unknown to me.

------------------- ----------------------

The next morning

My head aches like none other, pounding roughly and shooting sharp pains. I rub my temples once I'm able, but my hand has fallen asleep from lying on it last night. It tingles, and I wish Mark were awake to hold it like he always does. I cough lightly, hoping it will wake him up, and I succeed. His eyes blink open, squinting in the sunlight and then tenderly gazing at me.

"How the hell did I get into bed?" He sounds insanely tired, yawning half way through his sentence.

"You were asleep on the couch last night when I came back so I figured I should take you to bed." My lips find it difficult to curve into a smile, but somehow I manage to do it. I'm starting to doubt if I should ever tell him what happened.

"Oh, thanks. You didn't stay at Mimi's?" He looks excited at the thought that I chose him over Mimi.

"No, I don't know if I will be anytime soon either." That should give him the hint. It was a little too obvious.

"What? Why? Did you tell her about…"

"No…no." I shake my head and a brush of anger takes over my body, stirring deep in my stomach. I feel hate and heartbreak all merged into one big mess.

"What happened then?" He's getting frustrated with dancing around the truth, and I fight internally with myself about giving it up. I sigh, and let the words spill out of my mouth.

"I found Mimi buying heroin. I yelled at her, asking her why she would do it to herself again, why she would do it to me. She said she couldn't stop, it was too hard. So, I left. We broke up." My eyes are glued to the blue blanket covering our legs, and I feel Mark's gaze on me. His hand rises up to my chin, pulling me into his arms.

"I…I'm sorry. Are you okay?" My head rests against his chest, an area I've gotten fairly familiar with over time.

"Uh…I don't know. I'm so angry with her and with myself for not stopping her. She was leaning on me and I couldn't help her."

"She's the one who started it in the first place. Don't blame yourself for her weakness."

"But that's what I mean, I could have helped her through this. I don't know why she couldn't come to me when she was having a hard time." I run my finger over his stomach, thinking hard about why I was so unreliable. "Maybe I wasn't there enough. I was always…" I stop myself, realizing Mark is the reason I wasn't there.

"With me." He breaks from my grip, sliding himself out from under me. "See? Now I've fucked up Mimi as well. Why did I let myself get into this again?" He tugs at his hair, sitting at the end of the bed and facing towards the window.

"Mark." I crawl over to him, lying my arm around his shoulders and giving him a quick peck on the cheek. "This is not your fault. I'm sure she would have done it even if I had been there."

"Sure." His arms are crossed over his stomach, eyes turned away from me.

"I'm serious. This is about me and Mimi. Not you. You didn't do anything but be there for me when I needed you." He finally flips his head around to look me in the eyes. I see how much he longs for a kiss, but for some reason can't give it to him. When he leans forward, I get up off the bed. "I'm sorry." I take his hand and sit on heels. "I just can't. I'm sorry." My head drops down to lie on his lap, and my feet come out from under me.

"All right." He kisses the top of my head, his lips gently caressing the pounding still coming from my brain. The soothing helps, and I'm finally able to open my eyes without pain. He's a miracle worker. "Hospital today, right?" He lays his hand on my shoulder, pinching the fabric of the shirt I've been wearing for the past few days.

"Hope so. We just have to wait for Collins' call."

"Kay." He sighs, and we both secretly wish we didn't have to go. I don't think either of us wants to see how bad Angel is doing. Both of us don't want to admit this may be the last time we see her. I feel my stomach shake, and suddenly remember I probably need food of some sort. I forgot to eat dinner last night.

"Holy shit! I forgot we have cereal from Collins. Wanna eat?" I change the subject, away from Mimi and Angel. All the things we probably should talk about but don't have the willpower to.

"Umm…sure." He knows I will probably end up eating it all anyway. My real question should be do you want to come and watch me eat? "I think we need to stuff our faces now. With…one box of cereal." I get up off the floor and laugh at his tone, throwing my arm around his neck and digging my nose into his cheek.

"Did I mention that I love you today?" I whisper in his ear, kissing his jaw line softly.

"No." He says sadly, giving me a pout and asking for it.

"Well, I do." He begins to smile, when his lips return to a frown.

"You do what?" I can see a smile hiding in his lips; it's just waiting to burst out of him.

"Shut the fuck up. You know I love you."

"Oh." He looks confused, and then sneaks a kiss onto my mouth. "I love you too."

"Thanks. Smart ass." I slip in, and he pushes me into the chair at the table. A box of Cap'n Crunch sits lonely on top of the counter, and Mark reaches over to grab it. He collects spoons and bowls, salvaging the last clean ones we have. I think he might have gotten his out of the sink.

"I think someone needs to do dishes soon." He gives me a look, like I'm actually going to do the dishes.

"What? Me? When have I ever washed anything?" I pour some cereal into the bowl in front of me, picking some gunk off of my spoon. I'm starting to see his point.

"You could learn sometime." He looks down at the spoon I'm fondling with and attempts to grab it from me to help.

"Or you could just do them." I say matter-of-factly and he quickly grasps the spoon from my grip. He throws it swiftly into the sink, leaving me with my hands out in shock. "What the hell? I'm starving!"

"It's dirty. You don't know what the fuck that was. It could have been something gross."

"Who cares? Do we have another…" Before I can finish he whips a new spoon from a drawer, setting it carefully in my bowl. "Spoon. Thanks." I try not to look at him, I hate when he is right. I just stuff food into my mouth, savoring every inch of every piece. I've had cereal for an eternity it seems, but I eat it with pride whenever I can.

Mark watches me, and I stop midway through a bite to try to convince him to eat.

"You're skinnier than me. You should be eating this instead of me." I slide my bowl to him, placing my spoon in his hand.

"No, I was about to pour myself some. Take yours." I don't object, pulling the food right back to myself. It doesn't even take a minute before my mouth is chocked full once again. He watches me again, this time admiring, when the phone rings. It's probably Collins. "I'll get it. I think it's considered rude to answer with food in your mouth." His smile is warm, but once he reaches the phone I sense fear engulfing him.

"Hello?" He answers it, and his face lights up. "Hey Collins. So when are…" He stops, the light in his face vanishing. It's now completely white. I drop my spoon, sending a piece of cereal flying before walking slowly over to Mark. He buries his head in his hands, finding the right words. "All right…is there time for us to…" His mouth is left wide open, obviously being interrupted. My stomach churns and twists, expecting the worst. "Okay." His voice is small and soft, cracking and afraid.

"Oh God, Angel." I whisper, and his eyes meet mine. I can see the grief lurking deep inside them.

"Okay. In a couple days? Well…where? Are you okay? You're sure? Yea, you can." I hear a continuous line of questions and answers, none of them making any sense to me. "All right. Bye. I'm so sorry Collins." Oh _shit_.

"Mark? Please don't say what I think you will. Please." He hangs up the phone as slow as possible. My heart pounds deeply in my chest, and my headache returns with haste. I can tell she is gone.

"Angel…we're too late. It happened last night. Oh God Roger, what are we going to do?" I can't concentrate. My world has collapsed. The walls are closing in around me, and I feel constricted. I take a step back from Mark, but fall into his arms instead. Into the nook I seem to now live in. Our tears mix together, and it's impossible to tell who is shaking. Everything is so insignificant now, we just let it all happen. Angel was our world, our lives, no matter how much we wouldn't admit it. She was quite possibly the only thing holding our group together.

"Mark…she's gone? How? She was just sick! I don't get…"

"Shhh…" He interrupts me before I break into a frenzy of anger and depression. I don't think I've been this confused since April's death. It's like living the whole thing over again. I can't do this again. I can't stay in the house for another six months, helpless and leaning on Mark. I have to get away.

"I can't stay here Mark. This is all too familiar." I feel his embrace let up, and get up to face him. There are huge dark circles underneath his eyes from tears, and I see the lines they made.

"What?"

"I have to leave."

"We could take a walk or…"

"No! Mark! I have to leave New York. I can't stand this fuckin' drama anymore." The look in his eyes is pure anguish. I can't believe I'm leaving him at the hardest time in his life, but I have to go. I won't survive if I stay. Even Mark can't get me through all this shit.

"What? But…we…what about us? About everyone here?" He sniffles, looking desperately for my reasoning.

"I don't know. Maybe I'll be back. Maybe not. I just can't take this. It's too much. New York is just filled with all this bad shit and I'm sick of it." Now I'm filled with bitterness, and leaving him isn't seeming so hard anymore. I've distanced myself from all the things I once loved. It's easy to do after you lose something you love.

"How can you leave now? You're just going to forget about us? About Mimi? And Angel…"

"I'm not forgetting anyone! If you want me to stay here and die then I will. Just tell me, and I'll stay."

"I…" He stutters and my insides twist into a ball of confusion. "I don't want you to leave. But…if you can't stay here then, maybe you need some time away." I see the hurt he feels, and I feel it too. Leaving him will be hard, but so will staying. "Angel's funeral is in a few days. Halloween." His voice cracks through every word.

"Mark." My hand hovers over him, unable to touch him for some reason.

"Yea?" He refuses to look at me, and I know why. Looking into his eyes when I leave will be impossible too. He is the reason I got this far, and I'm abandoning him.

"I never meant to hurt you."

"Then why do you keep doing it?" His face snaps towards mine, and I lean my forehead against his. With a firm grip I grasp onto his collar, fighting back tears even though I should just let them go.

"I love you, Mark! This is just too hard." I feel hands on my face, pulling me closer to him, making our bodies parallel. The passion between us is rough, wanting and sad.

"Please, don't go. I can't live without you."

"I have to." Tears and screams fly from our emotion tattered souls, longing for some kind of contact showing each other we still love one another. I force him into a hug, feeling him resisting as soon as it begins.

"Stop it! You don't love me or you wouldn't do this!"

"Mark…"

"No, don't try to explain yourself. Just tell me the fuckin' truth for once Roger!" He's left the floor, now on his feet, while I kneel, vulnerable below him.

"I love you! But not enough to let you take care of me until I die. I can't just wither away in your arms like I'm weak. I need to experience other things." I stand, backing quickly away from being anywhere near Mark. "I need to see other things in the world than your chest shaking from my sobs. I can't take this endless repetition anymore. Some shit happens, and I come crying to you. That's how it's been for the last year, and it's not going to be that way for the rest of my life!" My mouth closes, and my fingers rise to cover it. That was the full truth. Everything that I've wanted to say but somehow couldn't over this whole time. That's why I'm leaving, that's why I'm distant sometimes.

Mark's eyes widen and he falls back onto the bed. His cheeks are bright red, and he stutters in shock.

"I had no idea…I'm sorry." He manages to whimper out, laying his hands over his face and sighing deeply. "Maybe you should just leave me alone for a while."

"No, Mark. I don't want to leave unless you understand."

"I understand. Just please leave." I hear his voice breaking, and I know he wants me to leave so he can cry. But if he cries, I want him to cry with me.

"Mark. Please don't be mad."

"Would you be mad if I were leaving, and you would never see me again?"

"You're going to see me again. I promise. Plus I'm not leaving right now. We have some time together."

"It sounds like you want to end it."

"I didn't say that."

"But it's what you want."

"No." I snap back. I don't want to end it. But I also can't stay with him here. If only he could come with me. "I'll always love you. Just remember. I just can't…"

"I know." He buries his head in his pillow, and I sneak over next to him. My hand rubs his back softly, trying to soothe him. My body leans down to cover his, kissing his ear smoothly with my lips.

"Don't give up on us Mark." He turns his face towards me and his eyes tell me that he loves me. That gives me the strength to wake up everyday. The strength to go on. Then why can't it give me the strength to stay with Mark?

----------------- --------------------

Notes: That was quite long I know. Kinda depressing too…was it too sappy and emotional? Be truthful. Keep reviewing I love 'em!


	14. You're Always There

Just got back from Minnesota, and I'm dying from lack of my computer! I missed it so much I wanted to cry. Okay, I didn't get to write much because of dogs in the car and people reading over my shoulder, but I did as well as I could. Hope ya like it!

------------ -------------------

Mark's POV

Somehow Roger and I are still able to be around each other. We talk, but it's not the same. We don't have the same connection we used to. It's not Mimi or Angel or even that he's leaving after the funeral, it's the fact that we can never seem to make it work. There's always something holding us back. Something in the way.

He talks about writing Mimi a song, like we were never together. He never acknowledges me like we were together. It's the same thing all over again. Sometimes he completely ignores loving me. Maybe he doesn't anymore. Maybe it was all an act, then he saw real love with Mimi. But how could he fake it? It all seemed so real.

Whenever our eyes meet I feel a cold, long distance. It's only been two days since he told he was leaving, but it seems horribly long and drawn out. Time is moving slowly, every second painfully ticking by.

"Are you ready to go?" Roger peeks his head in my room, dressed up as nice as possible for the funeral. He looks handsome, but terribly sad. His eyes are weary and burnt out, looking for life.

"Yea. Just putting on my shoes." I sigh, and wish I could muster up the courage to say something more.

"Okay. We walking or what?"

"Uhh…" I tie my shoelaces and wonder what the temperature is. It's most likely warm enough to walk, and we are slightly early. "Yea. Sure."

"All right." I can see anguish in his face, and I know he doesn't want to attend the funeral. He loved Angel too much to go. He doesn't want to see Mimi either, to fight, to hear her beg him back, to refuse. Angel's death is not the only thing that is bothering Roger. He has so much shit to deal with I'm surprised it hasn't exploded inside him yet.

"Do we need to..talk or anything?" I whisper, immediately becoming uncomfortable.

"What? No…" He looks away before walking closer to the bed. "Do you think we need to talk?" He sits down next to me, yet relatively far away.

"Uh, I don't know. I don't want to fight."

"Me neither."

"Then, maybe later."

"Didn't we say enough before? When we b…" He slides away from me, and I feel a cold rush run through my body. He does think that we broke up. It suddenly hits me that Roger and I might never get back together. That might have been my last chance with him. Now it is Mimi's turn. Part of me is ready to accept that, no matter how much it pains me to say so.

"Maybe you should just get back together with Mimi. Wouldn't it be bett…"

"Mark! Don't start that shit again. Just let me live my life, okay?"

"Roger, Mimi loves you. You love her."

"Do I? You know what I feel now?" He looks me square in the eyes, but I choose to ignore him. I know he loves Mimi, even if he loves me too.

"I'm just trying to do what's best."

"What's best for who? Mimi?" He tries to get away from me, walking briskly into the living room and looking out the window. After a second I follow, hesitantly putting my hand on his shoulder. I expect it to be pushed off immediately, but he lets it stay.

"I'm sorry." I whisper to him, and he takes a long time to speak.

"It's okay. I'm starting to think…" He pauses and takes a deep breath in. "that you're right." My hand jumps off his shoulder in shock. Could he actually be considering going back to Mimi?

"What? You mean…"

"Well, she needs help. I can't just give up on her like April did to." It's like he's an entirely different person now. He turns his body to face me, looking directly into my eyes. The sort of thing he only did when we were together.

"Oh."

"Mark?" He notices my gaze drop away from his, and tries to find it again.

"Yea?" I see his staring intently at me, confused by my regret. Now I don't want Mimi in the picture. Before I knew he wouldn't follow my advice, but now he's actually considering it.

"Why do you always take care of me? I'm always an asshole and you just…" He glances out the window, looking into the fog of leaves and city turmoil. "You're always there." I see a red blush come over his cheeks, in spite of his best attempts to hold it back. He does still love me, but he doesn't want to. He really wants to love Mimi, and now I'm the one who needs to accept that.

"You would do the same thing for me." He looks up at me, compassion burning strong in his eyes.

"I would try." I feel a shiver repressed in my body, and I want to pull him into an embrace. To feel his arms around me is what I need right now. But that is why he is leaving; to get away from my hugs.

"We should go. We're kinda late." I pull away from him reluctantly, wanting to return the second I can't feel his warmth.

"I know. I said that before." He smiles playfully, obviously not missing my body next to his like I do.

"Right. Sorry." I stutter, walking to the door and slipping on my jacket simultaneously.

"Something wrong?" He asks. Yes, everything is wrong. How can he just pretend like we were never us? We were never anything? Is that what I meant to him? I meant enough to forget two days later.

"Uh, I guess not."

"Mark, what is it?"

"We're going to a funeral, do you expect me to be beaming with joy? Unlike some people I loved Angel." My words hit hard, even for me. I feel him cringe and wait for my impending doom. I know he loved Angel, saying that was a death sentence for sure. So much for not wanting to fight.

"What? Mark you know that is a lie."

"I know."

"I loved Angel as much as you. Don't start this shit, you are mad about something. What is it?" He's pounding it out of me, and I'm going to have to tell him eventually.

"It's nothing. Just not being…never mind." I decide that I should keep it to myself, he's already confused. But now that he's going to be with Mimi, he won't leave for Santa Fe. At least I will get to see him.

"All right. Well, I'm here to talk." He's more passive today than usual, like he's in a better mood. Somehow that is impossible to believe. Maybe this is how Roger is when he's grieving. "You ready?"

"Yes for the millionth time. Let's just get outta here."

---------------- --------------

Once we walk inside the church, it really hits us that Angel is gone. Before Roger and I were talking like it was a normal day, but now it's here. Our last day to pay respects to the center of our lives for the past year.

We walk closer, seeing the coffin in view, as well as everyone who is there. A cold sweat overcomes my body at the sight of who is in a pew near the front. Mimi and Benny. I look over at Roger, who stares angrily at the couple. I'm not happy that Roger can't be with Mimi, in my dumb mind of confusion. First I force him on her, then I don't want them together, and now I wish they were. What the fuck?

Roger sits down in a pew and I place myself next to him, glancing over every few seconds to see if he's okay. Tears roll down his cheeks, and I see him looking at Angel's coffin in sorrow. I think he wants Mimi there with him, holding his hand and telling him it's okay. But she's with Benny, wishing it were Roger. What a twisted world.

One by one everyone gets up to say something, including me, before Collins slowly makes his way. His speech crushes me inside and out, showing me what real love is. What is missing with Roger and I? Angel and Collins were always perfect together, telling each other "I love you" all the time. But so did Roger and I. I said it as often as I could. Maybe it wasn't enough.

Angel and Collins weren't afraid to kiss in front of us. They would show their love, without being distasteful. They were in love, and they were best friends. Roger and I were always afraid to show our love in front of the group. We were always hiding. Maybe secrecy is our problem. Now I can't fix it. It's gone forever. He's gone forever.

We all walk through the graveyard, emotionally spent. I can't seem to cry, even though I cry in Roger's arms almost everyday now. It's like my tears are all gone. Mimi and Roger fight, tearing the group further apart with every cold word. They both love each other? Why are they fighting this? Me.

I have seemed to screw everything up for everyone. If it weren't for me, Mimi and Roger would be happy together, in a blissful state of romance. But I had to happen.

I walk back from the funeral, after attempting to drink with Mimi, Benny and Collins. I tried, but I'm not a big drinker. It doesn't help me in the slightest. I walk slowly into Roger's room, and see him packing his suitcase. He is actually leaving. We fight, and I see anger and grief in his face, like reluctance. He's leaving yet he doesn't want to?

Seeing him leave even when Mimi is staring him in the face, practically begging him back is infuriating. Roger always has to be the stubborn one, unable to just let his heart lead him through life. He uses his head too much. His eyes quiver, building up tears as his feet move beneath him, running away from the only family he has. I don't quite understand why he has to leave. I never understand anything that Roger does. He's always such a mystery.

The door closes, after consoling Mimi, after offering help, after doing all I can to help everyone, after denying all of my feelings to make everyone else happy. I collapse on my bed, breathing in salty tears that are finally able to come. I cry for Angel, for Collins, for Mimi, for Roger, for myself. I want him in my arms, in my grip. That way I have control over him; I can't let him get away from me. Love is all I have to think about, and I can't feel it next to me.

----- ---------------

That was Goodbye Love strung in there in case you couldn't tell, so yea…hope you liked it! I'm hoping to post the next chapter really soon to make up for the fact that I didn't post this one last night…oops. Read and Review! Thanks guys, love ya!


	15. An Image in My Heart

I should be working on my English paper but I'm not to make you happy. Or really because working on homework would be no fun. And I want to write about Marky and Roger. So here goes…here goes…here goes…here goes…here goes…OKAY I'm totally done! XD hope ya like it!

--------------- -----------------

Roger's POV

My back firmly presses against the concrete of the wall as I randomly strum chords on my guitar. People pass by every second, but I'm unable to pay any attention. All that fills my mind is New York, Mimi and Mark. Leaving was stupid, selfish and cruel, but that's me. That's what I am when the slightest bit of fear sets into my mind. I shut myself off from the world as if it doesn't exist. Even when I was staring into Mimi's dimming eyes, I couldn't find the strength to take her back. Alone I can sort things out. I can decide what I really want to do.

Mark doesn't want me back, and I've begun to give up on us. There's no point to it anymore. Except that I love him, but apparently that's not enough. Love doesn't matter if someone is dying in Mark's world. Love can be put on hold. Mimi needs my help, therefore I can't love him. So all I need to think about is Mimi. I'm trying to find my love for her. To find my song for her. To find my purpose. How can I do that when all I can find in my thoughts is Mark? He won't want me back now. He made it pretty clear several times that we aren't right for each other. But the real reason we are both afraid to be together is because we know we won't be accepted. We are different. Different is not all right.

Mimi is right for me. I do love her, just not like I should. Something is missing that is there with Mark. Mimi is not over her reckless phase, a phase I passed with withdrawal. But she just can't seem to drop it. Not even for me. I can see the need in her eyes every time I close mine. I long to hold her, to help her get over this affliction that only Mark could get me through. Mark was right; I'm the only one who can help Mimi. Without me, she is lost. I was to say I'm lost without her, but it's not true.

I hear my song echoing in my mind and I itch to write it down. Eyes. Mimi. Moonlight. Distance. Her eyes. Hold her. My eyes. Just words bouncing in my head or do they have meaning? Confusion is an understatement for me right now. Mark isn't an option, yet I still consider him one. I'm only making myself troubled. Mimi is my only choice. Mimi.

Now I long to get home, so see Ma…Mimi smiling up at me, to sing her my song. The song I couldn't write. I wrote songs, but embarrassment kept it inside. Mark and I never wanted anyone to know about us. It killed us in the end.

A man hands me a bus ticket and I casually throw my cigarette to the ground before boarding. My notebook shakes with the bumps as I attempt to scratch out words and letters to replace them with new ones. I feel insecure, unable to focus. All I can think about is how I could be home, singing one of Mark's songs to him while everyone listens. When I'm done I reach over to kiss him lightly on the lips, smiling while a red blush overcomes my skin. Everyone would know he's mine. Everyone would feel wound together again. That image will never be a memory. Now I have to focus on Mimi's song.

The bus stops at last, after an eternity of bumpy roads and detours. All the while I tried to write legibly, scribbling down every thought in my mind that pertains to Mimi or music. I'm filled with excitement and anticipation. I was gone for such a short time, but it seemed to crawl slowly by. My feet take me down the street faster than I can comprehend. My guitar is carried by hand, sliding back and forth in my grip. When I finally approach the door, I take in a deep gulp of air. To my dismay, Mark isn't in the loft. But his camera is. Where the fuck did he go without his camera?

I look around and see film strung out all over the room, boxes of cereal filling the garbage next to an empty chair. I assume Mark sat there when he worked. His bedroom is also empty, the sheets crazily messed up. I can tell he hasn't been sleeping well, as his pillows are on the ground. Mark can never sleep without his pillow cushioning his head.

After checking the whole loft, my gut feeling leads me to him. The roof. I open another door, and almost run to see him. He stands frustrated at the edge, but when our eyes meet. I see the anguish disappear. All of my confusion melts off, thrown away for the moment.

He runs into my arms, and I can finally feel his body embraced with mine. It feels so damn perfect. His breath is warm on my neck, better than the cold wind. We break after a few seconds, but I hesitate to let him go. This gives me an excuse to touch him, after our hug I won't be able to make contact with him anymore.

"You're back!" He yells in excitement and I nod and smile.

"Yea. I missed…home." I whisper, stopping myself from saying his name. From saying I missed him.

"I missed you too." I look up into his eyes and smirk. He said what I wanted to say.

"Well, I'm here now. Let's go back to the loft, it's fuckin windy up here." He laughs and grasps my shoulder, pulling me inside with him.

"How was Santa Fe?" I hear the fear in his voice. What does he think? I'm going back? I'm leaving him again? Never.

"All right. It was…different. I was all by myself. Alone with my thoughts." I take off my jacket as we step into the loft, and Mark sets the keys down on the counter.

"I thought that's why you left. To think."

"Well, I did. But I guess I didn't need that much time. I belong here." He nods slightly, and I fight the urge to lean forward into his lips. I know he will push me away from him, a reaction I could never recover from.

"Did you finish your song?" He asks, moving over to his camera to fiddle with some film.

"Did you finish your movie?" I turn it back to him, and he looks at me, uneasy.

"Pretty much. Sure. I just need to do some fine tune-ups."

"Me too." We both smile, our lips curving into fake signs of happiness. I get the feeling that I'm not the only one who wants us together. I have to stop thinking of Mark that way now. I came back to be with Mimi, not Mark. "Have you seen Mimi lately?"

"No, not really." His eyes fill with disappointment, and move down to the camera instead of me. Talking about Mimi always makes for an awkward moment. "I don't think anyone has."

"Oh."

"I mean, she was in rehab for a while. Then, she stopped coming to Life Support and I don't know if she is still in rehab. Or work for that matter. I haven't really talked to anyone much though. Collins left and I've been working so much lately." He hesitates on his last thought, no doubt my words got to him. _Mark has got his work. They say Mark lives for his work. And Mark's in love with his work. Mark hides in his work._ These words I regret every time I think about them. Mark was telling me the right thing to do, but instead of listening, I hurt him.

"I'll go looking for her tomorrow maybe. I want to get settled in today." I walk slowly to my room, and see my bag lying on the bed. While I unpack, I feel Mark's eyes on my neck. But I don't want to turn around. I am afraid of what he will say. I'm afraid of what might spill out of my mouth.

"Do you want something to eat or…"

"Not really. I'm not hungry now." My mind races with thoughts. I thought this would go away once I got back, and once I finally saw Mark again. I guess I was wrong. I feel horrible that Mimi is not all I'm thinking about. She is lost, yet Mark still fills my mind. I'm sure she is fine. Mark is probably exaggerating.

"Okay. Well, just lemme know if you are." He eventually leaves, but I still feel like he's watching me somehow. Why is he all of a sudden worried about if I want food? I doubt we even have any. Did Mark start shitting money while I was gone?

When I finally come into the living room I see Mark at his camera again, trying to organize his thoughts into a complete film. I can't wait to see it, all of his hard work finally in front of me.

"Hey." I say, looking over his shoulder at what he's doing. He shrugs back into me, making contact with my chest. We look awkwardly at each other, and he moves away slowly.

"Hey. Uhh…you want food or what?" His body language says he's uncomfortable, but the feeling of our bodies together was the only sane moment I have experienced in a while.

"Nah, I just finished packing so I figured I would come out and see what you're up to." My fingers play gently with a knob on his camera, and his eyes stare intently at me.

"Just finishing…" He stops when something beneath my hand snaps, and I jump away quickly.

"Shit! Sorry! What did I do?" My eyes bug out in fear, and I feel like I've completely screwed everything up.

"No, it's okay. It's nothing important." He picks his equipment up and carefully reaches for my hand. I let him take it, but try not to focus on the feel of his skin on mine. He puts my fingers to the part I broke, pushing it down so I can feel what I did. "See? You feel that?" He looks up at me, a wide yet cautious smile dancing on his lips. Pride seems to overcome him whenever he can share his work. "You just snapped it out of place." A click sounds from the metal object, and I feel it go back in place.

"Oh yea, I feel it." I sigh, and our hands lift off of the camera. Mark tries to pull them apart, when he realizes I can't. I just need this one thing, just for this moment. Our fingers wrap around each other, and hear a barely audible moan escape his lips. His eyes shut, and I press our palms together.

Our hands touch lightly with our fingers spread out. Mine are slightly longer, and he runs his down my entire hand. Goosebumps overcome my body and my eyes shut along with his. It's odd how much pleasure we get when only our hands are making contact. But I feel our minds connect too. Until he breaks it.

"I'm sorry." He whispers, pulling away from my hand and massaging at the back of his neck. "I just…I promised myself I wouldn't let this happen again and…" The words sting my heart. I think it was better when I didn't know what Mark was thinking.

"I didn't mean to…I just couldn't let go." I laugh awkwardly in an attempt to make the situation lighter, but Mark remains silent.

"I don't want to get into all that again."

"Get into what?" I try to act like I don't know what's going on when in reality I don't want to know.

"This…whole thing. How many fuckin' times do I have to tell you that Mimi is…"

"Better. I know. I came back for her. Jesus Mark." I act bitter and storm into my room, slamming the door behind me. I tried to pass it off as if Mark was imagining our connection. It's hard to lie to him. I had to do it so often when I started using, and now I'm back in the same place. Lying seems to be my specialty. I've gotten better over the years.

I hear a light knock on my door and hesitate before answering it. Mark stands there; camera in hand and an unsure look on his face.

"I'm sorry. I just thought that you…"

"You shouldn't assume I want you back." I interrupt him, in my attempt to sound like the better person. My voice is cold and cruel, when all I really want is to fall into his arms and confess my undying love.

"Want me back? Did I ask for you back?"

"No, that's not what I meant…I just…uch..nevermind." I begin to shut the door again when I feel Mark's hand pushing it back towards me.

"Stop Roger. Stop being so ignorant."

"I'm not!" He gives me a look that convinces me I am.

"We just need to move past this right? Just pretend it never happened?"

"I suppose. If that's what you want."

"It's what I want." His eyes well with tears, and he finally lets me close the door. I know it's not really what he wants. He wants the same thing as me. He wants us together, and Mimi with someone else. But that's not how things are going to turn out. Life isn't fair like that, something that took me a while to learn.

I fall down on the cushiony mattress of my bed, bouncing lightly up and down on it. My eyes stare up at the ceiling, and I take time in closing them. In the darkness of my mind I see Mark lying next to me, smiling up at me. I'm warm at last, after hours of being freezing cold.

A shiver jolts through my body and I feel his hand come up to my face. I can almost sense it there. When my eyes rise open, I almost expect to see Mark in my arms. But it was all an image in my brain. Or rather, an image in my heart.

I guess I should just be thankful that I ever had Mark. Now it's time for Mimi. If I can find her.

-------------------------------

Don't have much to say except that I have a chapter in mind that I really want to get to! But I will try to make the chapters leading to it worth reading. Does it feel like I'm dragging it all out? Like emotion, emotion, sappy, fluff, emotion? Tell the truth and I shall appreciate it! Thanks much guys!


	16. Mimi Happened

Ergh, be prepared to wait a little longer for updates people! I have started a new story. Yes, that's right. I have three stories going at once. How I will do it I have no idea, but it's gonna happen. Wish me luck. Don't worry, this will be the last one I would ever abandon. Never shall I give it up! Okay, here I go with writing…

Disclaimer: Your Eyes, along with pretty much everything is Jonathan Larson's.

------- -----------

Mark's POV

My hands fix comfortably under Mimi, using all of my strength to help bring her inside. If only our loft was warmer. Roger and I have gotten used to the cold, but all she needs is heat. Her body is so limp, I can barely tell she is alive. The look on Roger's face is pure panic, as he desperately rushes to save Mimi. I feel his panic, but what must be going through his mind right now is beyond me. We need food, we need heat, we need blankets, we need medicine, we need a doctor. We don't have anything to help.

Mimi's eyes flicker open slightly, rolling back in her head after every attempt to look around. Her body is freezing, left outside in the park for ages with no one to comfort her but heroin.

"No room on the couch!" Joanne yells, and my mind sets fire with thoughts. The one time I have all my shit on the couch, we desperately need it.

"Uhh…clear off the table, we'll put her there." I yell, as the girls wipe off excess food and grime, covering it with a brown blanket. The blanket I once covered Roger with when he fell asleep in my arms. I watch intently as Roger lies Mimi down on the counter, being as gentle as possible. Someone asks for heat, but no one can get it. It's not possible. There can't be enough time to save her. Collins calls 911, and now we are completely helpless. We've done all we can.

"Roger…you're back." Her voice is weak and mousy. I can tell she's giving her all to get words out of her mouth.

"I'm back. I'm back, baby." Roger whispers to her, as he climbs up next to her on the counter. Their hands grasp tightly together, and the rest of us just stand back. I hear heavy breathing, gasping breaths of expiration and worried sobs of fear. Losing Mimi would destroy Roger. He has lost too much already. April, heroin, Angel, and now Mimi. He might as well lose his guitar.

I stand at the window, watching as two people I love exchange last words. I think about the future, about what could happen next. Will this destroy us or bring us closer together? What does all of this mean for Roger and I? I may have missed my chance with him, but I will never stop being his friend.

"It isn't much, but it took all year." Roger whispers to Mimi, trying to keep her conscious for as long as he can.

**Your eyes**

**As we said our goodbyes**

**Can't get them out of my mind**

**And I find I can't hide**

His voice floats into my mind, stretching my imagination. I listen closely, picturing him on the couch with his guitar in his hands. The chords vibrate roughly against his calloused fingers, all of it resting together in perfect harmony. I look up to see Roger concentrating on Mimi, as if he can keep her alive with his stare.

**From your eyes**

**The ones that took me by surprise**

**The night you came into my life**

**Where there's moonlight I see your eyes**

Every word gets harder for me to hear. Listening to Roger belt out a love song for someone else is hurting me slowly but deeply. He always said he wrote songs for me, songs he would never sing me. Now I'm wishing I would have heard something from one of them. His voice captures me, swirling me inside out with emotion. But none of it is for me.

**How'd I let you slip away** **When I'm longing so to hold you?**

**Now I'd die for one more day**

**Cause there's something I should have told you**

It's like Roger dug thoughts from my mind. The thoughts I couldn't bare while he was gone are now being sung to Mimi.

**Yes there's something I should have told you**

**When I looked into your eyes**

Tears well in my eyes, his words hitting the deepest parts of my heart.

**Why does distance make us wise?** You were the song all along 

**And before the song dies**

Roger's voice heightens, the passion and sadness he feels all being poured into one lonely song. One song before she goes.

**I should tell you**

**I should tell you**

**I have always loved you**

**You can see it in my eyes**

My breath catches as I hear the last few words escape his lips. Tears are now dangerously close to spilling over, but I'm able to contain myself. Mimi gives up, and I see her hand drop from Roger's jacket to the side of the table. I feel the love and power in the room all disappear, all with one moment of weakness.

"Mimi!" Roger screams, and I look away, unable to view the horrid sight any longer. So many things run through my mind. Some caring and melancholy, and some spiteful and selfish. I can't help but think I could have stopped this. I could have gotten Roger to stay in New York with Mimi. I didn't do all I could.

Silence overcomes the room. Everyone watches, panic-stricken, as Roger glares desolately at Mimi's lifeless body. It can't possibly be over. It can't just be us five. Seconds seem an eternity long, ticking by with care. Roger sighs with his repressed sobs, taking in the last image of Mimi he will ever see. Then, a restless mood fills the room.

"Mimi?" Roger sniffles, and I see Mimi rise to a sit up. She lightly pushes Collins' coat off of her, balls of sweat accumulating on her skin. Everyone gathers around the table, awaiting a word from Mimi. Words of hope or love, something to keep us going. She breathes a sigh of relief before finally speaking.

"I was heading towards this…warm white light. And I swear…Angel was there. And she looked good!" A smile overpowers my lips. Angel always seems to find her way into our lives, even when she's not standing among us. Collins laughs with sorrow, the mention of his lover ringing in his ears. I look over at Roger and watch him study Mimi's every movement. Her every word now seems like a miracle to us all. "And she said, 'Turn around girlfriend and listen…to that boy's song.'" Mimi smirks, her pouty lips stretching over the ivory teeth beneath them. Roger lays his hand on her face, pulling her close to him.

"You're drenched." He says, wiping the rest of his tears away.

"Her fever's breaking." Maureen concludes after a quick feel of Mimi's forehead. Roger still holds tightly to Mimi's hand, in fear that she will slip away if he lets go. If only I had never let go of him.

I walk quickly over to the film projector, flipping it on and letting a bright light shine on the screen. Everything I've worked for in the past year, or perhaps my whole life, is finally there for everyone to see. It couldn't come at a better time. Images of Angel, Collins, Mimi, Roger, Maureen, Joanne and I all appear in the film. There is now hope among us. For this one moment, we can all enjoy our time together. It won't last very long. We all know, maybe even Mimi too, that she doesn't have too much time left.

----------------- -----------------

The next morning

"Mark? Breakfast!" I hear Mimi's weak voice yell softly from the kitchen, and I wake up slowly. Someone cooked us breakfast? Maybe having Mimi here won't be so bad.

I drag myself out of bed and pick up a shirt off the floor. I slip it over my head quickly, and rush to see what kind of food I have awaiting me. When I open my door, I see Mimi at the counter, bags beneath her eyes, standing over a feast. Bacon, eggs, sausages, pancakes and bagels are all there for our delight.

"What the fuck? Where did all of this come from?" I smile enthusiastically before digging into the elaborate spread of food. Roger isn't up yet, but I'm sure if he knew what was to eat he would be energized in a flash.

"Collins just showed up with it. Isn't it amazing?" Mimi giggles, taking a mouthful of eggs in. She coughs lightly into her napkin, but it doesn't stop her from shoving a whole piece of bacon into her mouth. "Fank you Food Emporum" She mumbles, crumbs flying from her mouth. I can't help but chuckle at her; she probably hasn't seen this much food before in her life. I guess the Food Emporium really does rake in a profit.

"Yea. It is pretty…where is Roger?" I ask, as my mind returns to Roger as usual. Mimi swallows a gulp of food and exhales sharply.

"I think he's still sleeping. I can never seem to wake him up before noon." Her eyes roll, and I get a napkin from the side of the counter.

"I know what you mean. The only thing that works is to ki…" Oh, fuck. I almost let myself slip. The only way to wake up Roger is to kiss him firmly on the mouth. That is not something Mimi would want to hear from me, I'm sure.

"Huh?" She asks, the big baggy shirt she sports blowing slightly to one side. I can always expect Mimi to wear Roger's clothes in the morning.

"Heh, nothing. Never mind. He's just lazy that's all."

"Yea, no shit." She scoffs, and I stuff a banana in my mouth before heading towards Roger's door. I knock roughly on the hard wood of it, trying to swallow the food in my mouth before saying anything.

"Roger? Come on, there is food out here." I add, knowing that now we have a chance of seeing his face.

"Is there bacon?" Roger mumbles, and I laugh. He _is _awake.

"Yes. There is everything you could possibly want." Two seconds later the door swings open to reveal Roger in just a pair of pajama pants. His face is lit up, and he looks almost past me for a sign of something edible in the loft. "Uh…it's on the counter." I tell him, and he finally looks at me.

"Oh." He leans back to grab a shirt off of his bed and slips it over his head. "Thanks, Mark." His hand makes contact with my shoulder lightly, and we stare into each other's eyes. For a second I think he's about to kiss me, and his head pushes forward slightly.

"Mimi is already eating." His eyes blink quickly, and Mimi enters his mind.

"Oh yea, all right." His smile is sad, and he makes his way to the display of breakfast. "Honey, should you be up? I think you need to rest." He lectures Mimi, and she gives me a look of desperation. I can tell she wants to eat more than anything.

"No! I need food." She whines, and he pecks her on the neck. He slings his arms around her waist and leans against the edge of the counter. I want to go up to Roger and kiss him. Kiss him with all the passion, need and want that I feel right now. Just to press our lips together, to run my hands through his hair and hear him moan against my skin is all I need.

"You need to rest baby." He digs his face in her hair, and she picks up two pieces of sausage before plopping herself down on the couch.

"The one time we have food I have to be sick." She mopes, as lines of grease draped on her lips sparkle in the sunlight.

"You're complaining about getting time to sleep? I would be dancing with joy." I comment, trying to make her feel better. I don't know why I'm so nice to the person who stole Roger from me. Shouldn't I be bitter and hateful?

"Well…at the moment I'd rather eat but…"

"Oh shut up and just go to bed Mimi." Roger snaps at her, before apologizing with a soft kiss on her lips. I look away while they embrace, unable to stomach it.

"Bye Mark." I glance up to see Mimi making her way to Roger's room, the big shirt billowing at her thighs. Once she is through the door, Roger lets out a huge sigh.

"Good morning, Mark." He says, smiling more than he did the entire time Mimi was in the room.

"Good morning, Roger." I answer, and walk over to him. "How was your first night since Mimi came back?"

"It was okay." He sounds disappointed, and inches closer to me slowly. "She's so skinny. I feel her bones whenever I hold her in my arms." His eyes connect with mine, and he leans into my face. His breath is hot on my cheek, and my chest rises and falls with want. Just one kiss. Just one. "I l…" He whispers, when Mimi comes barging through the door. Roger's body jumps away from mine, and a pink tint flushes his cheeks.

"Rog? Are you comin'?" Mimi asks, and Roger nods, unable to speak. He drags his feet along to her, and she hugs him gracefully, pulling him into the room. His eyes are hollow with desperation, and I'm left hanging. I was so close again, and Mimi happened. It's some sort of a sign. Isn't it?

-------- -------------------

I'm sorry for the song in bold, I would have rather had it in italics but some of the lines weren't showing up and it was a catastrophe. If anyone knows what is wrong and how to change it please tell me! The next chapter is what I've been waiting to write! Yay! So, I guarantee it will be at least somewhat great. Read and review people! I love 'em! XD


	17. Being Myself

A/N: Yay for me! Now that my big English paper is over and done with, I have time to work on all three of my stories! Yippee for writing! Now, this is the chapter I have wanted to write for about two weeks now, so I really hope you enjoy it. I love the reviews so much! Thank you all…I love 'em.

Disclaimer: Rent is Jonathan Larson's and Every Time Around, the song, is Adam Pascal. I did change one little word, but it's all good. It makes it more fitting to the story. Other than that, it's all theirs. I have nothing to do with it, other than putting them in here. Nothing. Not mine. Nope. Nada. Rien. You get the idea.

------------- ------------

Roger's POV

"Come on, Roger!" Mimi pleads, stroking her thumb along the side of my face. Mark always used that touch to make me shiver, to get me to kiss him. Mimi uses it to pry something out of me. It doesn't work as well.

"No, Mimi…just let it go." I try to let the subject drop, but I know she'll never let it go. It's no use trying to correct my slip. My feet swing back and forth, hanging off the couch. Mimi sits with her legs sprawled out across my lap, as she flexibly leans her head on my shoulder. I have no clue how she can stretch her body like that.

"Roger, it's your music. Even if you think it's horrible, it's probably beautiful." Her eyes stare up at me with their weakness drawing me out. "Just let me hear it. Please?"

"Nah, I don't even know why you'd want to."

"Because it's part of you I want to know more about. Baby, please!" She looks about to cry, and I'm about to give in. I contemplate whether Mimi would figure out the song is really for Mark. Chances are she wouldn't, but I don't want to risk it. There is no point in telling her about something that only remains in my mind. Mark and I are over, despite my constant need for him. Then again, I could just change that one little word. Just to make it seem like it's for her. Guilt overcomes my mind, and I realize that it's necessary if she's going to drag the song out of me. All I have to do is sing one word differently. Just one word. I can get through it. My mouth slowly opens, when Mark barges through the door.

"Hey!" I exclaim, excited that he got me out of the situation. "Where have you been?"

"Uh…nowhere special. Why?" He looks confused, and I don't blame him. Mimi just sighs from her failure and brings her knees to her chest, hugging them tightly.

"No reason. I was just wondering." I smile, and for once, he genuinely smiles back. But when our eyes meet deeply, both of our smiles fade away. Everything around seems to slowly disappear, even Mimi. For that one second, Mark is my entire world.

"He's just trying to change the subject." Mimi cuts off our connection, and I blink the room into sight. "He won't sing me his song." She adds, and I shoot her an irritated look.

"Oh. Which song?" He asks, also disoriented, but curious. He probably knows that I've only written one song for Mimi. The rest are for him.

"It's not important. I'm not playing it anyway." I try to end the conversation, but Mimi is persistent.

"You're always playing around the loft, why can't you just sing me this one song?"

"Yea, Rog, just make her happy." Now she has Mark begging me too. God knows I can't resist Mark. That is my problem.

"Guys, just fucking let it go! It's not gonna happen. It's not good and that's final." I decide to be stubborn, and get up to look in the fridge for leftovers of the huge breakfast a few days ago. Mimi follows me with her eyes before clenching her teeth in anger.

"Roger! Don't be such an asshole!" She's fed up now, and Mark runs across the room to fetch my guitar. Usually I don't let people touch my guitar, but I suppose if anyone should, it's Mark. I reluctantly take it from him, and he smiles sadly at me. He _does_ know it's his song. He _does _know I want him back. Maybe I shouldn't change the lyrics. Maybe I should just let Mimi figure it out by herself.

I take in a huge breath, and position my fingers on the strings. Fear takes my body under into a whirlpool of nerves. I can't believe what I'm about to do. Nothing can prepare me. I can barely keep my body still from paranoia. Everything is going to change.

"Yay! Roger's playing!" Mimi screeches when she sees me preparing to start.

"Y…yep." I whisper, breathing heavily and trying to focus my mind on the song.

"Okay, when did ya write this one hun?" Mimi asks, and I sigh. That is the question I dread. She has to ask the question that I want to avoid. My mind races, and I finally come up with an answer.

"Uh…it was when I was leaving for Santa Fe. We weren't together." I didn't lie. I did write it before Santa Fe. She just doesn't know the whole story.

"All right, play it then." She's so impatient, twiddling her fingers every few seconds. Mark stares cautiously at me in fear, and I hope he's okay with me going on. I have to do this for all of us. Finally I'm going to tell the truth.

"Okay." I sigh, and close my eyes to start. Here goes.

"Every time around

I come down with the same intention

And break into a smile at the thought

I don't dare to mention

A solitary dreamer

Been meaning to make it outside

But sitting here alone I don't risk yet another blind side"

Mimi curls up in a ball, swaying to the delicate sounds echoing from my guitar. Mark leans back on a stool at the counter, soaking in my voice. My eyes open just for a few seconds in between words, just to see their faces.

"And then, oh once and a while,

I make a breakout

Always under fire,

But I never mind the end"

My fingers strike the strings roughly, and I feel more emotion overcoming me.

"Every time around you don't make a sound

Every time around is a chance to love him

Dreaming far away, every time around

See, it's only love, god, it's only love"

My eyelids refuse to open now, in fear that I will see Mimi's horrible reaction. The word let my mouth with danger, caution and panic. I could almost hear the room become tense.

"If only I could stay I would say,

'I would never leave you'

If I could get control I'd do nothing

But _hold_ you

But when I see you smiling

Even though it's over

Well, you can walk out of my world"

Every word rings true in my mind. I picture Mark in my arms, squeezing him tightly yet gently in my grip.

"Every time around you don't make a sound

Every time around is a chance to love him

Dreaming far away, every time around

See, it's only love, god, it's only love"

My voice springs hard from my throat, and tears threaten to spill from my eyes. I try to contain myself, and I'm able to pull the tears back in. I can just see Mimi's face right now, but I don't want to. I doubt I ever want to open my eyes again.

"Goodbye, don't say you love me

Goodbye, don't say you love me

Goodbye, don't say you love me."

Strings pluck quickly, with great intensity. Now I've let everything out.

"Every time around you don't make a sound

Every time around is a chance to love him

Dreaming far away, every time around

See, it's only love, god, it's only love"

I finish slowly, dragging out every second for as long as possible. My courage gathers in the pit of my stomach, and I finally open my eyes. Big brown eyes stare up at me, dazed and confused. I doubt she knows if she heard correctly. Then, my focus shifts to Mark. I see a tear running down his face, glowing in the sunlight. A smile comes to my lips, hesitant but real. I want to run to Mark now, kiss him hard and passionately, like I've wanted to do ever since I got back. But, I imagine, that would make things so much worse.

"So?" I ask, sluggishly making my way over to the couch to sit next to Mimi.

"Uh…it was…I…" She stutters, letting her legs fall from her grip and onto the floor. I glance over at Mark for an answer, and he opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He is speechless.

"I'm sorry." I whisper. It's all I can say. I don't know what else I could say. So many thoughts run through my mind, I can't possibly organize them all into an explanation for myself.

"Roger…" Mark tries to talk also, but is interrupted when Mimi gets up off the couch.

"Mimi, please don't just leave. We can talk about this." I beg for her to come back, and she stops with her hand on the doorknob. Her brown hair stays completely still, and she leans her free hand against the metal of the door.

"I don't even understand what just happened." She finally says, and Mark and I look at each other. I move slowly closer to him while Mimi has her back to us, and he does the same. We only get half way across the room before she turns around. "What the fuck was all of that?" Tears glaze her eyes, and she crosses her arms.

"I…Mark is…" I hesitate, afraid of what might spill out of my mouth accidentally. "I don't know. I'm so fucked up right now." My body drops onto the couch, and I bury my face in my hands. I feel a body follow me, and then carefully rub my back. The touch is familiar, and when I look up, I see Mark's eyes meet mine. A sigh of relief escapes my mouth, and Mark nods. He needs to tell her. We need to tell her.

"I don't understand what the _hell_ is going on here! I have never been so…" Mimi screams, as her anger and confusion spills over the edge. Her fists snap to the counter, and she sits herself down on one of the stools. Surprisingly, she hasn't started crying. Not yet at least. "I thought…you loved me. I thought…we were…"

"Mimi…" I move over to her, escaping briefly from Mark's grip. I pull a stool up next to her, and sit down. My hands grip to hers, and she avoids looking me in the eye. "I do love you. I always have."

"Then…what…is this all about? That song obviously wasn't about me." Now she's just annoyed, and I'm reluctant to tell her the truth. My eyes move cautiously over to Mark. I look for answers in him, as if he is a little less confused than me at the moment.

"Mimi…before we met, before…everything…Mark and I were…" I let out a huge sigh, and continue on. This may be one of the hardest things I've ever done. "We were together. We were…we were together." I try to find a better word, but "lovers" seems too brutal for her right now. Mark and I sit in silence, awaiting the slightest reaction from Mimi. Her eyes remain on our hands, entangled so much you can barely tell which fingers are whose. Her feet shift a little, and she scoffs, almost laughing.

"I don't know why I didn't figure it out." She says, staring deeply into my eyes. "I should have gotten the clues. I should have…" Her hand pulls quickly away from mine, and she rubs her temple. "God, I'm so stupid. I guess with all the…I couldn't really…"

"It's not your fault. This happened way before you, and it's all of our shit. I had no right to do this to you. I should have told you sooner." Mark lays his hand on my shoulder, and soothes me immediately. But when I look back at Mimi, she finally looks about to burst. Mark touching me is pushing it too far.

"Wait…what are you telling me? You and Mark were together, or you and Mark _are_ together?" I blink is surprise, and realize that I need to ask myself that question. My attention gets turned to the man behind me, and Mimi waits patiently for an answer.

"Well…I don't know. I…" I hate saying all of this with Mimi here. It is hurting her and me. But, I need to tell the truth for once. She needs to hear it all. "I don't know how Mark feels about me. But…I…" I close my eyes for a second, and summon the courage I need to force the words out of my mouth. The words I haven't said for a long time. The words I've always had hovering in my head. "I love him." My body turns to face Mark, and his eyes well up. "I love you, Mark." He smiles quickly before glancing back at Mimi.

"Roger…I don't know if…" His head drops and I can tell he is running over things in his head. I know it's hard for him to say; it's hard for me too. "I love you too, Roger. I love you so much." Our sighs mesh together. We've let everything out, and now we have to deal with the consequences.

"Roger…" Mimi gains my attention again, and I turn back to her. She smiles sweetly at me, and brushes her hand over my face. "I love you. I want you to be happy. Are you happy?"

"I'm happy with Mark. I'm happy with no secrets. I'm happy with no guilt, and no hiding, and being able to…be with him." I grasp her hands again, and hold them tightly on my lap. "But, I love you too. I don't want to hurt you, it's the last…"

"Roger." She stops me, and lays her finger over my mouth. "Don't do that. You shouldn't feel guilty about wanting to be happy."

"Mimi, we don't have to…"

"Goddamn it Roger, just be with Mark! Is this why you always shut me out? Why I could never open you up! You wished I was Mark the entire time? You could have just told me. Told me before I…fell so hard for you. Fuck!" She gets up violently, grabbing her dark blue jacket off the couch and running for the door.

"Mimi! Don't leave! Mimi!" I yell after her, but she is already gone. My hands find my jacket too, and I look back at Mark before following after her. He smiles at me, knowing that I love him. And I know that he loves me. That was the only thing we needed over the past few weeks.

My feet take the steps two at a time, and I finally catch up to Mimi. She doesn't try to get away from me but stops when I call her name. Her frail body faces mine, and I pull her into me. It's so cold out, and she is so skinny. Not to mention sick.

"Don't do this Mimi. Don't just leave angry at me."

"I'm not angry. I'm…shocked. It's all…"

"I know." I lean my chin on the top of her head, and she wraps her arms around my waist. "I'm sorry."

"I can't go on without you. You're the only one who can…"

"I never said I was leaving you. I mean…I can still help you through…everything. I'll always be there for you." I brush hair out of her face, away from her puffy pink lips. She pulls me into an embrace, and I hug her tightly, savoring the moments. I'll miss being able to kiss her, touch her, and play with her hair. But oh, how I've been longing to touch Mark. Just once, just a little kiss. Every thought on mind has been about kissing him. I'm dying to go back to the loft and meet his lips, slamming skin into skin and chest into chest. Even as I have Mimi pressed against me, I can't get Mark off my mind.

"You promise?" She whines, almost child-like. I lean forward slowly, carefully laying one final kiss on her lips.

"I promise." I assure her, and I mean it. I would never leave her. I just can't leave Mark. Time without him is unbearable. We begin to walk back to our building, and I hold her as close as I can, trying to transfer some heat between our bodies. Every once and a while I feel her staring at me, her eyes rolling up and down the side of my face.

I think about all I have said today. Now, Mark and I have to tell everyone we are together. Well, we have to tell Maureen and Joanne that we are together. I hope they don't find out in the same way that Collins did. Thoughts of fear and excitement come to mind. Now I can hold Mark's hand in front of everyone. Now I don't have guilt overriding my every thought, every time I am with Mark or Mimi. I can finally feel comfortable about being with him. About being myself.

"Mimi?" I shiver from the rush of heat as we walk into the apartment building.

"Yea?" She answers, making her way up the stairs.

"Will you feel…awkward if Mark and I are…together? Like, when everyone is hanging out, and Mark and I are…a couple…" Those words sound almost weird. Mark and I. A couple. The thoughts never occurred to me. But now that they have, I'm starting to like the idea.

"You mean, if you kiss in front of me?" Her voice sounds hurt and angry. It surprises me when she turns around. She has a smile spread across her lips.

"Yea, I guess. Hold hands, kiss…make any contact whatsoever." She laughs and pulls me up the stairs with her. I'm confused about the way she's taking it. Shock, then acceptance, then anger, then fear, and now humor. Women.

"It will take some getting used to, but…like I said. As long as you are happy. And I don't turn into a third wheel, or whatever the hell you call that. Do you know?" She furrows her eyebrow and I chuckle at her totally irrelevant question.

"I have no idea. How about a second banana?"

"Hmm…maybe. I guess that works. Well, I don't wanna be one! That's the point." She says, frustrated.

"Never." I answer, and she heads towards her apartment. She reaches for her keys and unlocks the door, still clinging to my hands with hers.

"You two need some alone time. Come down and visit me later." She winks at me before disappearing into the empty home. I can only hope that she won't be shooting up while I'm gone. She seemed almost too content with Mark and I. Apparently I don't know her as well as I thought I did.

I hurry up the stairs, not wasting a minute. I barge quickly through the door, and throw my jacket on the ground. Mark no longer sits at the counter, and I'm sent into a state of panic. I need him so badly.

"Mark?" I yell, peeking into his room.

"Yea?" He answers, and I jump in alarm. He comes out of the bathroom, running his hands through his hair.

"Hi."

"Hi. Is…Mimi okay?"

"Yea…I talked to her. She's…surprisingly fine. I don't really know if she's lying or what." I answer, rubbing my palms nervously on my thighs. My feet shift under me, and I fight off the urge to lunge across the room at Mark. An urge I could easily fulfill, but for some reason I stop myself.

"That's good." He sighs, and I nod. He looks out the window at the frost accumulating. My breathing becomes labored and heavy. A silence fills the seconds that creep by, and we just stand completely still. It was never this hard to make a move on Mark before. I have no idea what's stopping me. Mimi approves, what else do I need? My hands imitate Mark's, moving hastily through my hair. Then, something rises out of the pit of my stomach, pushing away all of the doubt and fear that possesses me.

"Jesus Mark!" I scream, and sprint across the room to him. He takes a few quick steps forward, until our bodies collide with passion and need. My lips don't take long to find his, and I feel him sigh heavily against my lips. He throws his arms around my neck, deepening the kiss, and allowing my tongue to slip into his mouth. I shiver when I feel his hands on the back of my neck, the touch I have missed so badly, so desperately. He pushes our bodies closer together, until they are parallel. I can't take it anymore. I separate our mouths and moan loudly, leaning my forehead against his, and grasping onto his hair.

"Rog…" He whispers, the warmth of his breath brushing onto my skin. I pull him in for a gentler kiss, weaving our lips together softly. My mouth moves down his neck, and around his throat slowly. I hear his breath catch, and he pulls his head away lightly. "I love you. I missed you." He sighs, and I smile.

"God, I missed you too. Kiss me again please." I laugh, and he complies.

------------------- -------------------

The next morning

The button of Mark's shirt presses tightly against my face, no doubt leaving an imprint. Last night I fell asleep on the couch, on top of Mark's chest. It was the happiest I had been in ages. My hair lies contently on his face, moving with every breath blown out of his mouth. I'm afraid I've squished Mark to death, but I feel his chest slowly rising and falling. I carefully lift myself up, swinging my legs around to make contact with the ground. I'm able to stand, but sway a little bit. Damn head rush.

I lean down to touch my lips to Mark's lightly, trying not to wake him. The clock says one. Holy shit, we slept late. I was supposed to go to Mimi's last night, but I couldn't. I couldn't leave Mark. All we did was talk, kiss, talk, and cuddle. I felt like I was in dream.

The phone rings, and I immediately look over to Mark, to see if it woke him. He flinches slightly, almost completely un-phased. Although I haven't answered the phone in months, I decide to pick it up and let Mark sleep.

"Hello?" I whisper.

"Hi!" I hear screaming from the phone. "Roger? You answered the phone? I had a whole message planned out. You guys never answer!" Maureen rambles on, and I yawn, intently watching Mark sleep.

"Uh huh. Well, Mark is sleeping and I didn't want the phone to wake him."

"Oh, so that's why you're whispering! Well...I just called to see if you guys wanted to go out to dinner tonight. Our treat. Is Mimi too sick to come? We could always just come over to your place with food too. Anything works as long…" Her voice rings sharply in my ears, and I can't take much more of it.

"Yea, that'd be fine. I'll check and see if Mimi wants to go out or what." Then I remember. Mark and I need to tell Maureen and Joanne. "Or, maybe it should just be you two, me and Mark. There's something…"

"If you want. I guess I don't care. As long as…"

"Maureen!" I get her attention. "I'll call you back. I don't want to wake Mark. We were up…I mean…he was up late last night." I catch myself. I shouldn't tell her while Mark isn't coherent.

"All right. Talk to you later then." She hangs up without a goodbye, and I set the phone down lightly. Instead of continuing my search for food, I walk over to the couch and sit on the edge. Mark looks so peaceful, his hand resting on his chest, where I was only minutes before. I kiss his cheek and return to the fridge. For once I don't really care that there is nothing to eat.

-------------------------- --------

Notes: That was uber long man! Jeez! Okay, tell me TRUTHFULLY if you liked it. I don't know if it's too emotional or too sappy or whatever you think. Just tell me! Preferably without being too mean? XD I hope you enjoyed it! I loved writing it. It was orgasmic getting them back together…heehee! Until next time! Don't worry, that wasn't the end…unfortunately.


	18. Content

A/N: I have positively nothing to say except a compliment to all those who reviewed. I got home on Friday after I posted and I almost started crying. All the reviews were so amazing and great I couldn't believe it. I loved writing that chapter, and it just made it even better. Thank you guys so much. You are the reason all this stuff spits out of me so, thank yourselves! Now finally what you and I have been waiting for all these chapters!

Disclaimer: Jonathan Larson of course.

------ ------------ --------

Mark's POV

A hand cautiously taps me on the shoulder, and I groan. I long to see Roger smiling down at me, but my eyes refuse to open. Roger leans his lips against the edge of my ear, luring me to wake up, but I'm unable. I can't possibly be in the real world. This can't be happening. It's all too perfect. Being with Roger again is just too much to take in. I never thought we would be back together. I never thought he would have the courage to tell Mimi about us, never mind come back to me afterwards.

"Mark." He whispers and I shift slightly on the couch, feeling him sitting next to me. His body is warm, and his hand lies softly on the small of my back.

"Huh?" I moan, and Roger chuckles quietly at me.

"Nothing, just wanted to tell you I love you." My eyes snap open, and he laughs heartily at me. He knew it would wake me up.

"Fuck you." I pull his head forward into my lips, brushing against his lightly. A smile spreads across his mouth, and he lays in my arms, even though I can tell he's not pushing down all his weight on me. "Roger. Just relax, you're not going to kill me." I say, and feel him finally let his muscles go. He leans his head back on my shoulder, and we just be.

"Mark?" His eyes remain closed, and his voice is weary and light.

"Yea?"

"Did I do the right thing? Should I have told Mimi?" His head props up, lying against the couch instead of me. I try to look into his eyes, but find our position a little too difficult to maneuver it.

"Of course you did the right thing. You think you shouldn't…I mean we shouldn't…" I stutter, before feeling his rough touch on my lips.

"Don't start that shit again. I'm not going anywhere." We meet in a tiny kiss, meant to only last for a few seconds. Before long, I can't let go. Like if we stop, we'll never be able to kiss again. I sling my arm around his neck, thrusting my tongue in the gap between his lips. Fingers dance on my cheek, caressing the newly grown stubble and goose bumps. I hear a moan sighed against my skin, from who is unknown. It could have been me, unable to notice in this moment of pure bliss. My hands run through his silky soft hair, patting it down neatly then ruffling it once again. Roger could never help but grind our bodies until they meshed together. He loves the feel of my hips on his, pushing with all my might to connect us.

Forcing mine out the way, Roger's smooth tongue enters my mouth, tasting of cereal and fruit, most likely from the new toothpaste. His upper lip massages the edge of my mouth, sucking and kissing in a perfect rhythm. Our gasps for air grow constant, until the need is too great to keep going. I allow his body to lift slowly off mine and flip over, so he is perpendicular to me.

"I forgot what a good kisser you are." I sigh, already missing his sweet taste in my mouth. Two seconds later our mouths are connected again, as he completes the empty feeling in my body. It's short and sweet, leaving me wanting so much more than I could ever get right now.

"Thanks." He opens his eyes with a smile, then yawns before resting back against my body.

"I missed kissing you."

"I missed just kissing. Just lying here with you."

"I missed the feel of your lips against mine." I continue, trying to top him for some odd reason. He leans closer to me, pressing our chests together and letting me feel his hot breath on the tip of my chin.

"I missed our hips together." He thrusts into my body, rubbing more than just our hips against each other.

"I…missed…the feel of your…body…" I groan as he increases his speed only slightly, yet it's still able to render quite the effect on me.

"I missed…your little sighs. Your smiles. Your…" The pressure builds up and I press our lips roughly together, clawing my fingers tightly into his back. He continues to move up and down against me, making the pleasure unbearable. His hands grip to the sides of the couch, using it as leverage to grind. "Your…" He attempts to finish, completely disoriented by the friction of our writhing bodies.

"Roger…" I whisper into his ear, and bite my lip in agony. I can't possibly lose control now. It's way too soon. Our skin isn't even touching, and I'm already going over the edge. "It's too soon…" I groan, and his intensity slows. His eyes burn with fear, afraid he's gone too far.

"I didn't mean to…I'm sorry. I just got caught up in…" His body lies limply across mine, and I sigh in anguish.

"What? No, I didn't mean it like that. I meant that it I was too.."

"Oh." He gets it right away, nodding in agreement. His hand runs along my thigh, sparking shivers throughout my body, until it lands at my fly. Before he undoes it, I receive a questioning look. He wonders if he should go this far. We've done it many times before, but this is different. We are in it for good now. There's no turning back.

"It's okay." I press my hand against his cheek, and his eyes focus back on what his hands are doing. My fly unzips gently, and Roger's fingers slip in one at a time. I see his shoulder thrust upward slowly, digging his hand further down, as I sigh in relief.

"Mark…" He moans at the sensation of skin to skin. Our lips meet again, but I'm barely able to concentrate on his kiss. His fingers wrap firmly around me before moving, beginning a slow and tender rhythm.

"Oh…" I sink into his touch, as my world and vision narrow only to Roger. Again his speed increases, every few seconds making sure that I am okay with the new steps he's taking. My eyes shut in ecstasy, mumblings and moans mixing together to fall out of my mouth all at once.

"Mark…Mark…" Roger's breathing becomes heavy, and my fingers knead the skin of his neck relentlessly. He lays his head on my chest, unable to stand the noises of my enjoyment. I can't help but let them spill out. Suddenly and harshly, I'm snapped back to the real world with a ring of the phone.

"SPEAK!" A beep is heard loudly in our ears, and Roger pulls away from my sweating body.

"Jesus Christ. Why now?" He takes huge labored breaths, filled with anger and annoyance. "Why can't we just have two minutes to ourselves?" He presses his lips lightly to my chest before pulling away, and getting up off the couch to answer the phone. Maureen's voice fills my head, but I'm unable to comprehend what she's saying. "Hello!" Roger yells, and I can't help but laugh at his fury. He shoots me an irritated look before returning to Maureen on the other end.

I shut my eyes to calm myself, and let my heart return to its normal pumping speed. I look down to see my undone pants, but when I begin to zip them up, Roger grumbles at me.

"What?" I ask, needing a reason to leave my pants open for the world to see. He covers the phone with the palm of his hand tightly, and whispers to me.

"I might not be done with you yet. Let's just see how long Maureen can talk." His eyes rolls subtly, and he listens again to Maureen's incessant rambling. "Yes. Sure. Lunch? Umm…it's like…okay. Sure. No we didn't. Yea. Okay, see ya then." The phone rings when it slams down in its place, and Roger climbs back over to the couch.

"So? When are we going to see her?" I ask, uneasy about the prospect of visiting Maureen with Roger. I don't know if I can keep myself from touching him anymore.

"Later today. Holy shit!" He glances at the clock on the counter. "In twenty minutes. I don't have enough time to…" His eyes move to my pants, and I zip them back up casually.

"It's all right. You can finish some other time." I smirk, and finally sit up to place a soft kiss on his mouth. He thanks me with another one, and I rise up to change.

"What are you doing?" He rubs his tired eyes and yawns once again.

"I'm going to get dressed. These clothes are kind of…"

"But they smell like us. Plus that shirt makes you look sexy." He smiles mischievously, and I melt.

"Fine. But if anyone notices you are in for it."

"Oooohh…okay then." He mocks me playfully, and follows me to get our coats. He slips mine over my shoulders and I do the same for him. "Are we going to tell them?" He straightens out the back of his hair, running his hand over the same place repeatedly.

"Uh…I don't know. Should we?" My emotions are confused. I don't know if I want them to know quite yet, even though I want to be with Roger forever. Well, for as long as he…

"I think we should. They will just find out eventually. Why not now?" His eyes fill with want, and I give in to him.

"All right. But, no making out in front of them to let them find out. We have to let it out gracefully." I explain, trying to level with him. He pecks me kindly on the cheek before grabbing my hand with his.

"Is it okay if I do this out in public?" He glances down at our hands tangled together, and I contemplate it. I love him. Why not? What am I afraid of?

"Of course." I say, and he flashes me one last sweet smile before we head out the door.

---- ---------- ------

The brisk wind sways roughly against our entwined hands, making my knuckles blue. Yet, Roger's hand stays warm and moist, helping to keep my hand intact. Every few minutes he looks down to check that I'm still attached, that our fingers are still glued together. He's afraid I will break away, he's afraid of my fear. I've never held hands with anyone out in public, not even Maureen. It's odd to show the world that I am not alone. It's also odd to show them that I am not alone with a man. But right now, I could really care less.

"We're here." We show up at the Life Café and Roger digs his free hand into the pocket of his leather jacket. I notice he's looking down at our hands, wondering when he should let go.

"Ready?" I ask, calming my own nerves. I'm not going to be able to tell them. I'm actually a little glad that Collins walked in on us. We didn't have to worry about it beforehand.

"Sure." He sighs, and brings the back of my hand up to his lips. I feel him lightly kiss it before smiling with anticipation. "I love you." He whispers in my ear, leaning his face down to kiss me on the mouth this time, and I stealthily glance inside the window to see if Maureen and Joanne are able to watch us. They're not anywhere to be seen. Maybe we are early. I look down at my watch, and realize we are actually on time for once.

"I love you too. Come on, let's get this over with." His hand frees from mine, and he pushes the door open, letting a rush of warm air steam onto our faces. I sigh in relief, being rather sick of the cold. My eyes search through the restaurant, looking for a sign of Maureen and Joanne at a table somewhere.

"Marky! Roger! Over here!" I finally hear her yelp, and turn around to see the couple in the corner. Joanne has a cup of tea in her hands, trying to cool it down with her breath. Maureen's arm is tangled around the other woman's almost as if they are hitching elbows. Roger looks longingly at me, wishing he could grasp my hand again. I smile sadly, telling him that it will be soon. Soon enough.

"Hey." I say softly, and Maureen giggles subtly. "What?" I look myself over, making sure that I'm not covered with grime or still showing signs of my morning with Roger. Sure enough, my fly is slightly undone. I shoot a look at Roger, and he slowly removes his jacket.

"Guess Marky needs some lessons on how to dress himself." Maureen laughs loudly at her own joke, as Roger apologizes with his eyes. I sit myself down next to him, still basking in the embarrassment of my mishap. I see him resist to rub my back with the palm of his hand, and instead he lays it on my thigh, underneath the table so the girls can't see. His fingers trace a figure eight against the material of my pants, and I sigh in comfort.

"What are we getting to eat?" Joanne asks curiously, and I try to concentrate on anything but Roger's hand.

"Uh…I don't know. I think I'd just like…some tea." I hesitate between words as Roger's hand slides up and down my leg, almost hitting my most sensitive area.

"You don't want food? Come on, it's my treat." She persuades me into food, but I can't really focus on what she's saying. Roger moves his hand at a quicker pace, making me harden only a little. His fingers graze up in between my legs, and I let out a small gasp.

"Sure. A sandwich is…fine." I hold in grunts, fuming with anger, yet not being able to push Roger's hand off of me. It feels way too good to stop him. Our eyes meet, and he smiles before continuing on. He did say that he would finish what he started. I just didn't expect it to be in front of Maureen and Joanne.

"I'll have a sandwich too. I'm fuckin' starving." Roger grunts, and I laugh quietly. I use my feet to push my chair away from the table, and stand up quickly, before anything becomes too noticeable.

"I…have to go to the bathroom." I explain, before weaving my way around tables to get to the restroom.

I swing the door open and lean my hands against the counter. It's grimy in there, and I can smell trails of deodorant and soap. Looking into my own reflection, I see a small pink tint to my skin, probably from all the excitement. I wasn't out there ten seconds before Roger was touching me. Obviously he can't hold back. I hear a small knock at the door, and let out a huge breath before answering.

"Someone's in here!" I yell, and lean my head against the cold metal of the door.

"I know, it's me. Let me in, Mark." Roger whispers, and I allow him only a sliver of room to fit himself through. "Hey." He says, looking down.

"Hey."

"Look…I'm sorry. I just couldn't help but…" He takes my hand and runs his finger over my palm cautiously.

"What if they had seen you? I told you I didn't want them to find out like that."

"I know." He refuses to look into my eyes, and I turn my head from side to side trying to find his stare. His focus remains on my hand however, and he brings it up to his lips. "I'm sorry." Instead of planting a small kiss on my skin, he leans into my neck, sliding his tongue along the edge of it.

"Roger…not now. They're gonna suspect…"

"Shhh…" He quiets me, and I lay my hand on his hip. My body is pressed firmly against the door, and he allows his to touch it only a little. Our tongues collide first, then our lips, slowly connecting, biting, kissing, licking. Without notice, he slams against me the wall, lifting my arms over my head and plunging his tongue into my mouth. I grunt in pain, feeling the round doorknob thrash into my back.

"Uhh…" I moan, passing off my pain as pleasure. His hands run all over my body, finally landing on my hips. Then they come around, unzipping my fly and rushing inside. "Roger…we have to…" My mind clears of all problems, and I let his hand stay where it is. He pumps fast and rough, unlike before. There is no compassion, no caution in his moves, only passion and need. I don't mind, I'm caught up in the moment.

Before long I'm finally able to release, release pressure that's been building up for hours. For days. For months. For all the time Roger and I were apart. Roger leans his forehead against my cheek, attempting to catch his breath, and successfully calming me.

"Can we go out now?" I ask, rubbing a drop of sweat off of his brow.

"You sure you want to?" He looks down at where his hand presently occupies, and I notice a stain all over the front of my pants.

"Shit!" I curse, knowing that I won't be able to cover it up, or wash it out in a reasonable time frame.

"You wanna switch pants?" He asks, and I raise my eyebrow.

"You serious?"

"Yea, if you want. I'll just tell them that I spilled water." He begins to remove his jeans when I grasp his hand.

"No, it's all right. I can do it."

"Okay." He smiles, making sure his pants are secure and heading towards the door. "You wanna go out first?" His hand squeezes the doorknob, and I nod towards him.

"No, you go." I tell him, and he leans in to meet my lips. "We'll be fine." He whispers, and once he's gone I bury my face in my hands. Once I gather up the courage, I follow him out the door, and sit reluctantly back in my seat.

"Where were you two?" Joanne asks, sipping her still steaming tea. Roger and I exchange looks and I clear my throat.

"Bathroom." We both say at the same time, and I sigh in anguish. _Crap._ Now what?

"You were both in the bathroom?" Maureen giggles, and Roger nods.

"What! Roger, we were not!" I scream, for some reason unable to tell them at the moment. "He went after me and then I…I mean we…well…" I can't seem to spit the words out, as a million incoherent thoughts run through my mind a thousand miles an hour.

"Mark, it's okay." Roger leans over to lay his hand on my shoulder, and I accept it.

"What's going on guys?"

"Yea, I'm confused." Maureen whines, letting go of Joanne's grip and pressing her hand to her chin.

"Well…Mimi and I are over." I hear audible gasps from both the girls, and my head pounds with fear. They are shocked at that part.

"Oh my God! But, she loves you so much! Roger, what the fuck did you do?" Maureen screams, and I rub my temples lightly.

"Hey, he didn't do anything!" I fight back, trying to defend Roger. "This is all because of me." My eyes shut in frustration. I just let it slip.

"What do you mean it's because of you? Did you tell them to break up? Mark what the fuck did _you _do?" Roger and I can't help but laugh at Maureen, which makes her fume even more. "Guys! This isn't funny! You can't just say that you and Mimi are over and then expect me not to ask questions! Tell me what is going on!"

"Shhh…sweetie…maybe he doesn't want to…" Joanne caresses Maureen's hand gently, but she is quick to pull it away. Maureen can be so insensitive when the time is right.

"I don't care! Mimi is my friend and I want to know what happened!"

"Do you always have to snoop around in other people's lives?" Roger is starting to get angry now, and I place my hand on his back to calm him.

"Guys, calm down. Don't get all flustered over nothing. It's okay." I try to make them stop, but I seem to be invisible. Roger ignores my touch and an irritated glare remains stuck to his face.

"Roger, just tell me what you did for Christ sakes!" Maureen yells, and Joanne sighs. She is feeling the same thing I am. We both aren't able to control them.

"Maureen, it's more complicated than you think." I try to explain, and Roger leans slightly over to my body. He wants some comfort, something I can't give him until they know.

"Marky, I love you both. I'm sorry, but I need to know if Mimi is okay." She has finally calmed down, and Joanne smiles awkwardly.

"She's fine." Roger whispers, and I nod in agreement. "She's fine, now. Who knows if she was lying or…"

"Lying about what?" Joanne asks, now becoming involved in the conversation after it cooled down. Roger sighs, and gives in to temptation. He buries his face in my shoulder, wrapping his arms around my waist. I scoot my chair towards him, making it a little less uncomfortable for us to embrace. His breathing is full of sobbing, although I doubt he's actually crying, he just wants to.

"Roger, are you okay?" Maureen's voice is worried now, even though she is probably the one who is the cause of it.

"Yea, I'm fine." He pushes lightly away from me, but not before showing a small, melancholy smile. "I'm fine…just scared about Mimi, that's all."

"All right." Maureen accepts it, and slides her chair back over to sit next to Joanne. "So, what's up? Why the split?" I know she suspects something between us, just having witnessed a tender hug between Roger and I.

"Come on Maureen, you've probably figured it out." Roger says, and Maureen begins to joyfully clap.

"Are you two in _loooove_?" She asks teasingly, and I scoff. But Roger wants to show off. He pounds his lips onto mine, thrusting his tongue into my mouth and gripping onto my face with both of his hands. I'm shocked by his forwardness, and even though I know it's a joke, I sink into his kiss. After a few seconds I don't want to let him go, but he pulls away, leaving me with a pleased smile.

"Yep." He answers, and watches as Maureen and Joanne stare at him in shock.

"Oh…my GOD!" Maureen shrieks, as she gets up to give me a hug. I rise stupidly, as she forces squeezes me into oblivion.

"Maureen! Air!" I gasp, and she lets me go.

"Guys! That's so great!" She yells again, and Roger smiles at me. I can tell he's happy. I love getting to share the fact that he's mine with the world. Or rather, with the Life Café.

"Congrats, guys." Joanne says with a genuine smirk. Maureen fills with a bubbly energy, barely able to stay still in her seat, but eventually calming down. As we order and eat, Roger pulls my hand to his, lying it on top of the table, in between us. In front of everyone. I know he's happy, finally happy. I rest my head on his shoulder as the girls finish eating, and he lets his fall against it.

"I love you." He whispers in my ear, and I close my eyes. Content.

--------- ------------

Notes: Gaaa! It took me about four tries to get that one right! I know there was quite a lot of pointless sex in this chapter, but oh how I've missed writing it! I just needed to get it all out at once. Bad idea? Hope ya liked it! Review and tell me!


	19. Take Your Time

A/N: Obviously that was not the end of the story…I still have a little bit to go. This chapter is not the end either. Hope you aren't disappointed! Thanks for the wonderful reviews!

Disclaimer: Jonathan Larson's…forever and always

------------- ----------------

Roger's POV

"That wasn't so bad." The door opens in front of me, Mark slowly making his way in before me. I close it tight behind us, creeping up behind him.

"No, I guess not. Maureen reacted well. Joanne was in shock. I think overall…" My arms wrap around his waist, and my lips make contact with his neck.

"Shut up Mark. It was fine. Fine." I whisper along his earlobe, hearing him moan in return.

"I'm just glad they know. Now we don't have any secrets." My hands move up his chest, and he turns to face me. His blue eyes stare back at me, gleaming brightly in the daylight. Our lips connect lightly, his hands leaving me restless, as they are nowhere on my body. I reach out for his fingers, to pull them into mine, when I feel he's been trying the same thing. Our hands rub together slightly, skin on skin becoming my new obsession. "Roger." He tries to get me to stop, but I ignore him. The rough touch of his lips against mine is too intense for anyone to stop.

"What?" I ask annoyed, but still continuing to run my hands over his body.

"You didn't get enough at the restaurant?" He groans, my mouth lightly sucking on the nape of his neck, leaving small red marks as a souvenir.

"No…" I sigh, and finally let up. I pull him into the bedroom by his neck, dragging him onto the bed with me. I don't want to have sex; I want to be with him. I want to hang onto the moments. The moments I have.

"Mmmm…" He moans, as he nuzzles his face into my chest, making himself as comfortable as possible. My arms lie in between us, catching all the warmth combined from our bodies.

"Can we lie here forever?" I mumble drowsily, playing with his fingers in between mine. His hand is so much smaller than mine, smooth and tiny.

"If you want."

"I do."

"I do too." His hand loses energy, sneaking its way around me, and hugging me tight.

"How did I end up with you?" I ask, feeling his hair brush lightly against my face.

"I don't know. You got lucky I guess." He smiles up at me, and I kiss his forehead. I guess I did get lucky. Why is Mark with me? He could be with someone else easily. Okay, maybe not a lot of girls are into him, but why would he choose me? His best friend ex-junkie who is HIV positive and completely fucked up? Not to mention still grieving his girlfriend's suicide from almost two years ago. Mark could do a lot better than me, yet he still loves me.

"Am I attractive?" I ask, now completely doubting my looks and everything about myself. I look to Mark for helping me through every tough time. I just wish I could do the same for him.

"Are you kidding?" He scoffs, and I accept it as an answer. "I don't get why you are with me and not some hot dancer. I'm just this scrawny little…"

"Mark shut up. You're adorable." His big puppy dog eyes stare up at me, looking for a kiss. I give in, placing my mouth over his but pulling away quickly. "So are we going to lunch tomorrow with everyone?" I pick up his hand with mine again, playing softly with his fingers.

"I don't know. Do you wanna go?" The sun shines on his face perfectly, shadows accentuating his features.

"Kinda. It'll be weird to…in front of everyone." I set his hand down on the bed, still loosely attached to mine.

"Especially Mimi." He sighs.

"Oh shit! Mimi!" I gasp, and get off the bed before Mark can drag me back down. I have no idea how I totally forgot all about Mimi. For all I know she could be shooting up in her apartment and I'm not there to say anything about it. Mark's questions and comments coming from the bedroom are pushed out of my mind, as I keep Mimi my top priority. I owe it to her after these days of pure Mark and I.

I take the stairs two at a time, and I'm suddenly reminded that she might be getting ready for work. I don't even know what time it is, but the sun is setting. We spent a fucking long time at "lunch" with Maureen and Joanne. Of course Maureen needed every detail of how Mark and I got together, if we loved each other and what we saw in our future. She forced us to answer a lot of questions that we hadn't talked about yet. When I finally get to Mimi's door, I'm unable to move. The fear that she is shooting up overcomes me, shooting pains through my head and stomach. I lay my hand on the door lightly, then take a big breath in. I tap my hand gently against the cold metal, and immediately I'm greeted by Mimi's smiling face.

"Hey baby." She greets casually, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

"Hey Mimi." I grab her for a hug, and notice she is leaving for work. I back up to see her entire outfit, fishnet stockings, black leather, lace and big boots raising her to a different height. She's almost parallel to me now. Her keys fumble in her hand nervously, and she tilts her head in confusion.

"I haven't seen ya in two days. You okay?" My mind runs over the past two days. Staying in bed with Mark, talking, kissing, cuddling, and completely forgetting that Mimi exists.

"Yea, I'm fine. I'm sorry I didn't visit earlier. I just didn't think you'd wanna talk to me. You know after…" I look away, and feel her hand lay on my chest.

"I'll always want to see you." Her teeth peek through the lipstick applied to her thick lips, showing me a smile I've secretly missed the past few days. "How's Mark?" She makes the conversation somewhat uncomfortable, but I know I'll have to get used to talking about Mark with Mimi.

"He's good. We told Maureen and Joanne yesterday."

"And how'd that go? Did Maureen flip?" She giggles. She knows Maureen way too well.

"Yea." I scoff, and grasp her hand in mine. "They were worried about you." Her eyes fill with sadness, and she breaks our contact. Her hands dig in the pockets of her leopard jacket, and her feet shuffle beneath her. "Should they be?" I lean my head down, trying to find her gaze again.

"No. No, I'm fine. Just a little tired. I'm not looking forward to work." Her smile is false, like she's hiding something. She's not high. I can see it. She's not acting like it, she doesn't look worn out. She looks like she has more energy than she ever did.

"All right. Do you want me to walk you there?" I offer, and she nods gently. I sling my arm around her waist, and she cuddles into my chest. My lips meet her cheek without thinking, almost as an impulse. She smiles up at me, and pecks me on the mouth. "Mimi…" I whisper, and she knows she's taken it too far.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything…"

"I know." I kiss her on the forehead, apologizing for everything. Guilt is drowning out my thoughts, hanging over my head every time I touch Mark. I may not acknowledge it all the time, but it's always there. "Do you want to come to lunch with everyone tomorrow? We haven't hung out in a while." I clear my throat, and she grips tightly to my waist.

"Yea. That'd be fun. I'll be there. Life?"

"Mhmm." I mumble as I see the lights of the Cat Scratch next to us. "Here we are." I turn her to face me, and peck her once again on the cheek. "Have a good day at work." She smiles lovingly up at me and chuckles.

"We sound like we're married." Her fingers play with the loop of my jacket, and I tip my head back with a laugh.

"Yea. Scary thought." We exchange smiles before I leave her to enter the building.

--------------- --------------

The next day

"Mark are you ready?" I scream into his bedroom, after drying my hair with a rough and old towel.

"Yea. Are you?" I look myself up and down, watching drips of water cascade along my body.

"Uhh…not really." I laugh, and slip a shirt over my head. I'm not really too preoccupied with looking my best, I doubt anyone cares. Mark peeks his head in the door, scanning my body with his hungry eyes. "Can I help you?" I raise an eyebrow before heading to pull him into my body.

"No, I was just gonna say you look ready to me. I love your hair wet." He fluffs my un-brushed hair with his fingers, spraying water all over the mirror.

"I'll be ready in a sec. Just stop distracting me and I might be able to get something done." I add before making my way back to the bathroom to put on my pants. Mark stands still in the doorway, watching my every move with caution and care. "You like watching me?" I ask, picking up the brush between my fingers.

"I do, do you mind?"

"Not really." I flash a smile and run the brush through my hair. A drop of gel spreads across my palm, ready to be meshed into my hair. My hands are now greasy, and I rub them off on my jeans.

"So, what happened with Mimi yesterday?" He asks, and I stop in my tracks. Nothing happened, yet I still get nervous when Mimi is mentioned, as if she is off limits conversation wise.

"Nothing happened. I just asked her if she was all right and if she wanted to come today. She was fine."

"Is she coming?"

"Yes. Is that a problem?" I fix my hair until I find it perfect, and then walk over to Mark. He wraps his arms around my waist, and presses our hips together.

"No, I guess not. As long as she doesn't have a problem with…"

"She doesn't. Let's just not flaunt it in front of her." I smile, prompting him to kiss me gently. I feel his tongue brush against my lips, asking to get in, but I don't allow it. We are going to be late if he starts this. "Mark, we have to go. It's already quarter to noon. We _would_ have time if I didn't have to drag you out of bed this morning." I run my hand smoothly over the pale skin on his cheek, and see a small blush appears.

"I didn't want to leave you. It's so warm in bed next to you." His fingertips lift my shirt up lightly, touching my skin only for a second, and forcing me to push him away.

"Mark, don't. You know what will happen if you touch me like that." I start to walk out the door to my jacket when he moves in towards me. The heat of his breath rains over my neck, making me yearn for his lips to make contact just slightly. Mark has that control over me. One touch and he makes me want to slam him into the wall passionately and never let him go.

"Why do you think I do it?" His lips finally touch my neck, dragging along my moist skin to fill me with pleasure.

"No. Mark. Mark…" I grasp onto the back of his neck, pulling him closer to me, yet mentally pushing him away. Blond hair digs into my face, smelling of coconut and soap. Then my mind becomes practical. We can't be late. "Mark, get your jacket on or I'm never having sex with you again." He backs away quickly, leaving me with a huge smile on my face.

"Jesus. Don't threaten me like that." He laughs, and goes to the door with me right behind him.

The Life Café shows up again, almost identical to yesterday afternoon. Although this time I don't have to let go of Mark's hand before we go in. I grasp it tightly, rubbing my thumb over the top of it. Everyone is already seated at a relatively small table when we enter, and I wonder how the hell Mark and I will fit. Mimi is there next to Collins, her jacket hanging loosely over her small, bony figure. My hands begin to shake violently, from fear, from anxiety, and from just seeing her. Mark squeezes my hands tightly, and pulls me into his body as we make our way to the table. When I sit down, he wraps his arms around my neck, and I'm able to breathe a sigh of relief.

"It's all right." He whispers in my ear, and places himself next to me. The look in his eyes is so loving, so patient; I don't understand how he deals with me. How does he put up with all this shit? Mimi, the drugs, me constantly pushing him away, he stays through all of it.

"Awww…" Maureen whines as she sees Mark touch me intimately, and I roll my eyes at her. She's never going to get used to us being a couple. I look over to see Mark blushing, and kiss him quickly on the cheek, forcing the red to rampage across face.

"We've been waiting for you guys. What do you want to eat?" Collins asks, pressing the menu against my hand, not even giving me one second to think.

"Uhh…I'll just have coffee." Mark answers, and everyone glances over to him.

"Roger, now that you two are together you should be the one convincing him to eat more." Joanne comments, and I rub Mark gently on the thigh. He shoots me an annoyed look, and I lean into his face.

"Marky, you should eat something. Get everyone off your back." I tell him, and he sighs loudly so everyone knows they are pushing him too far.

"Fine…I'll share fries with Roger."

"Who said I'm getting fr…" Mark's elbow rams into my stomach roughly, and I immediately lightly smack his thigh in return.

"I said you are." He finishes my thought, and scoots his chair closer to me. I turn to lean my head on his shoulder, when I notice Mimi shrugged out of sight. She's still sitting among us, but has managed to fly under the radar. Every once and a while she smiles at jokes made, or coughs lightly, but no one pays any attention. Some friends she has.

"Mimi, what's new with you?" Maureen finally asks, also noticing Mimi's absence in our conversations.

"Uhh…well…I…not much." Bringing her hand up to her mouth, she hacks into it very lightly, but I can tell it's still a violent cough. She's trying to hide her sickness.

"Meems are you okay? You look sick." Collins asks. It seems like everyone is reading my mind. Mark and I keep our hands locked together, but try to avoid making it visible to anyone. We did come out as a couple, but with Mimi here it wouldn't be polite to parade it.

"I…" Mimi looks down at the table, running her finger over the design before meeting all of our eyes one at a time. I see a faint smile spread across her lips as she reaches me, and I feel some big news coming. "No, I'm not. I just went to the hospital yesterday. After a _long_ time with no visits, and they said…" Tears now spill rapidly down her cheeks, stopping her mid sentence. Maureen lays a hand on her back; trying to do anything she can to comfort her. Mark sends me a look of worry, in fear that we caused her grief. Even if we weren't the cause, I'm sure we didn't help matters.

"Shhh…it's okay sweetie. Take your time." Maureen consoles, and Mimi takes another gasp of breath into her lungs.

"They said that my T Cells are low. I have to come in permanently next time I feel shitty. They said I only have two months at the most." Her lip quivers, and before I know it, tears are filling everyone's eyes. All I see when I look around are faces of sorrow. My head spins, not being able to take in the information, but I try to remain calm. I almost lost Mimi once, I don't know if I can do it again. Having Mark might keep me sane and together, but I'm bound to loose control eventually.

"Mimi. We're all here for you. Just know that. We all love you." Collins says lovingly, before kissing Mimi lightly on the cheek. He is the only one who can cope with this at the moment. He's the only one who can keep his cool at a tragic time.

"Thank you." She whispers, picking up her napkin to wipe the tears on her cheek away. She looks over to me, for some kind of reaction, but I'm unable to give her one. I'm just in a state of shock. I knew it was happening, and yet, I was in no way prepared. I guess I have to make my peace with it. I need to be a good friend, not to shut myself out like I always do.

"Mimi…I…" I stutter, not knowing exactly what I could say that hasn't already been said. Mark rubs my back gently, trying to soothe me. He understands me. Even when I don't understand myself. He doesn't get jealous like I would. He doesn't give up on me like I would. He's so fucking strong sometimes I can't stand it.

"I know, Roger. You don't have to…" She sighs, and I can't help but let a little smile come to my mouth. I guess everyone knows me better than myself.

---------- ---------

Notes: Wanna kill me? I understand. I really don't want to do this to Mimi, but it is honestly what I believe would happen. I'm not just trying to kill her off and get her out of the way. Promise. Review and tell me how much you hate me! XDD


	20. Wither Away

A/N: Ahh…psychology paper is over with and now I can write freely…for these few days. Then I'll probably get another huge project. Okay, enough about my life that no one cares about. This chapter may seem a little more Mimi/Roger than Mark/Roger, but I think a little time with Mimi won't harm anyone. Hope you enjoy! PS…the play was the most amazing and uplifting thing I have ever seen in my life! If you get the chance to go, don't pass it up!

Disclaimer: Jonathan Larson! It's all him man!

---------- -----------

Mark's POV

I lie in bed, staring blankly up at the ceiling. Yet, my mind isn't as blank as I wish it were. It races with thoughts at a pace I can't keep track of. Thoughts of Roger, Mimi, AIDS, death, love, and our group of friends. The past few days I've barely seen Roger. He's been taking care of Mimi. Or at least he's been at Mimi's apartment. They could be fucking for all I know it. But I trust him still. I can find composure, and allow him to see her all her wants without flipping out. I don't know how I stay sane. The only conversations we've had were about Mimi. She's sick, and they need time together. Time to talk, to accept everything, I don't know. Is it cruel to wish he were here with me? To wish that one day I'll have him, he'll have me, and that will be it? I certainly hope not. Because at this moment, I feel like that hope is all I have.

Maybe all along I have been too oblivious. Maybe I should have just let Roger do what he thought was best. I'm the reason Mimi is dying alone. Roger may be at her side, but I bet somewhere inside her she feels alone. She feels that no one loves her. It hurts to believe _I_ am the reason someone doesn't have love in their life.

"Mark?" I hear whispered from the other room and shoot to a sit up in bed. The dark shields me from seeing an expression on his face, while he lightly sets his jacket at the end of the bed and joins me.

"Rog? How is she?" I ask, noticing the sorrow hidden deep within his voice.

"She's…all right. I guess." He sighs, and leans his tired head next to me.

"Oh." I mumble, at a complete loss for words. I can't tell if he wants to talk about it, or just wants to be left alone. I can't tell if I should comfort him, or ignore him. I can never tell. "Are you all right?" I ask, trying not to pry too much.

"I'm okay. I just…I can't do anything." He reaches gently over to me, pressing his head against my chest. My hand caresses his hair, stroking slowly back and forth to provide some sort of security. "I feel so helpless. She's dying and there's nothing I can do. What's the point?" He lifts his head up to face me, displaying his questioning eyes. He's looking to me for the answer. An answer I need for myself before I can give it to him. One day I'm going to have to face the same problem. Roger is going to leave me, and there is no way I can stop it.

"You're helping her. You're there to show her that someone loves her. To show her that everything will be okay. She isn't asking you to stop her from dying." It's hard to believe that I am telling Roger that it's smart to spend time with Mimi. But she is dying. Am I really that jealous that I would not want my boyfriend to help his dying friend? Even if it is his ex-girlfriend.

"How much help can I give when it's going to be me some day? I'm going through the same things, but she's just sicker. I can't…I can't fucking handle all…" He buries his face in his hands, grunting quietly from anguish and fear. Now I feel helpless. I want to say that I understand, but how can I? I don't know what it's like to face death. Sure, people I loved dearly have passed away from this disease, but I've never had to accept that I will be one to leave because of it.

"You are strong Roger. Even if you're not sure you are, she just needs words of comfort right now. She needs to leave in peace." I whisper in his ear, lightly kissing the edge of it before rubbing his back tenderly with my fingers.

"How would you know? How the fuck do you think I feel? Mark, you don't understand what it's like to wake up everyday with death over your head! Fuck, and then to top it off the only woman you love is dying too!" He screams harshly in my face, causing me to spring back against the headboard.

"I…I don't know what it's like…but I do know what it's like to love someone who is dying." I say quietly, trying to ignore the fact that Roger just professed love for Mimi. I'm sure he didn't mean it. If anything he meant platonic love. Is there a way he still loves her? I can't ask him…not now…there is too much shit in his head for me to screw it up even more. Asking about it won't help matters. "Roger, I'm sorry. I want to help but…"

"I love you too Mark." He interrupts me swiftly, turning his head to gaze out the window. Raindrops fall on the glass, pattering in rhythms that could soothe any angry fit. When he meets my eyes again, I see the remnants of tears occupying his cheeks. The moonlight shines over the outline of his hair, glowing with beauty like I've never seen before. I smile at his words, and for the first time in a few days, feel relief.

"You should get some sleep." I suggest, before pulling Roger into my body. We lie silently on the bed, sounds of breathing and gulps drowning out to leave just us and the rain.

----------- -----------

Mimi POV (earlier that day)

The soft mattress curves with my body, hugging every bone and hitch to make me comfortable. There are some rips and cuts, all from various mistakes and accidents, but the feathery bed is still what I depend on. It held me while I shot up, caught me when I collapsed after a long day, and withheld the many men I brought home over the years. My mattress may be the only thing that's been constant in my life. Now, my constant is going to cradle me while I wither away, as I grasp dearly to it, trying to savor the last few moments I have left in this lonely apartment.

"Shouldn't you be with Mark? At home?" I ask quietly, my voice breaking coarsely around my words. Roger looks up from the coffee pot and smiles gently.

"Mark understands. I'll only stay a little longer." He answers, and grasps two mugs between his fingers. I nod in approval, although I still think that he should be with Mark instead of me. I doubt Mark is very happy with the fact that I've had Roger to myself these past few days. Guilt has overtaken me, and now I'm almost unable to accept Roger's help without a burning pain deep in my heart.

"I don't know if I want to go to Life Support today." I cough lightly into my hand, as I grab the cup of coffee from Roger's grip.

"Why?" His voice is full of worry, fearing that I might be too sick to even leave the house.

"Don't worry. I _can_ go, I just don't _feel_ like going." He rolls his eyes at my response, as I slowly take a cautious sip out of my light brown mug. I have no idea where these came from. I sure as hell didn't buy cups. I usually only drink alcohol, and out of the bottle. That's my variety of beverages.

"Why don't you _feel_ like going? It's good f…" He stops as I spit the contents of my cup out all over my trusty mattress. There's one more stain for the scrapbook.

"What the hell is in here? I thought you made coffee!" I screech, almost surprised at the weakness of my sound. A stale taste still rests against my tongue, bitter and rough, yet I hate to say it helps the soreness of my throat.

"I gave you herbal tea. Sorry. I didn't know you'd spit it out if I didn't tell you. Jesus." He chuckles before heading to his bag to get a t-shirt. It's old and ragged, most likely from his glory days when he was with April. That name rings forever in my mind. She's the reason it took Roger so long to come out of his shell. She's the reason it took him so long to accept his feelings, to open up.

"It tastes like shit!" I whine, before handing him what's left and forcing the taste down my throat. He wipes up the mess with his shirt, soaking in the puddle that stains my mattress.

"It's good for you."

"Since when have you ever liked herbal tea?" I pry, even though I know he's right. It is good for me. But I'm not yet ready to accept that I can't drink and eat whatever I want. It can't be the time yet. It's way too soon.

"Did I say I liked it? I just said it was good for you. Coffee just makes you hyped up, then you're gonna wanna do stuff you can't do. Like…" His arm stops scrubbing the tea out of the fabric, as he hesitates on his next word.

"Heroin?" I say bluntly, feeling a shooting pain when he nods. "Roger, I'm off it! Why don't you believe me?"

"Because! You said you were off it before! It took me a fucking long time to get clean, and you come in and think you can do it in a month! Can't you just accept you need help?" His words sting, partially because they are so true. I need help. I thought Roger was helping me, but maybe he thinks I need more. What's the point now? Who the fuck cares if I shoot up? I'm just pleasuring myself before I die.

I lean my head against the wall behind me, and look out the window at the building across from ours. I've never paid attention to anyone who lived there. I see a woman and a man, sitting casually at the counter, eating lunch. Every once and a while smiles grace their faces, as they sip coffee and have a quiet conversation. I wonder how long these people have lived there. I can't remember seeing anyone there before…I can't remember much of anything other than my mattress…my drugs…the feeling. I've completely ignored the world and the life around me. Maybe Roger always felt like the people in that building. He felt like he didn't exist to me.

"What does it matter now? I'm dying anyway Roger! It's my last…it's the only thing I have now…I can't just…oh God…" I sigh heavily as tears fill my eyes, spilling down my cheeks quickly. Roger leans in to comfort me, rubbing my back lightly with the tips of his fingers. I can't even make sense of why I'm crying. Because I need drugs so badly, because I really am a junkie, because I feel worthless, because…I don't have Roger anymore. All the things I've done wrong have fucked up the one thing I did right.

"Mimi, you have me."

"No I don't!" I tear away from his grip, rising myself off the bed, a little shaky but still managing to stay on two feet. "I lost you! It's my fault! And now…you're so happy…and I can't do anything to…" My hands shake from withdrawal, a feeling that I completely and utterly loathe. I wish I could just get off the damn drugs quickly. As quickly as it took Roger to fall out of love with me. But, it's hard to say that I'm not a little happy for him. Roger and Mark are in _love_. Something I never thought would happen, but it did nevertheless. It makes sense I suppose. They were friends for so long, Mark helped Roger when he needed it, he was always there…it would only fit that they fell in love. I just don't know why I didn't see it coming.

"Meems, just because I'm with Mark doesn't mean you don't have me. I still love you. Just…as a friend." He whispers, and before long I'm able to keep my composure. I lie back down on the mattress, snuggling myself next to him to keep warm. He covers my thin body with a soft blanket, and without a word, I fall asleep.

When I wake up, he's gone.

Memories of the night before come rushing back, profusely sweating while the rain fell outside my window, begging for all the pain to stop. I haven't had a bout like that in a while. But he was there the entire time. Never leaving my side until I told him he could. I didn't really want him to leave, but he knew it was time. I guess I did too. Now I feel shitty, but not because I want drugs. My chest aches, pounding along in time with my horrid headache. I feel like my body is falling apart. Every bit is slowly giving up. I feel so weak, so helpless…as this disease takes complete control over my life…all I can do is sit and watch.

The clock says ten, but it doesn't look like it's morning. The rain makes the sky cloudy, dreary and dark, in synch with how I feel. I slowly stand up, my head spinning hazily around and around, unable to stop. I fall back down quickly, and take a deep breath. My body is so tired, so sick of it all. I know I don't have much longer. Every part of me twinges with disease. Now is the only time in my life I wished I had a phone. Somewhere along the way I knocked it off my little wooden table, shattering the green appliance into big chunks of broken mechanics. I didn't seem to care too much at the time, seeing as I had just shot up, unable to focus on anything. If I remember correctly, I laughed when it happened.

I feel the side of my cheek, brushing away mascara lines resulting from my tears last night. Roger left just when I actually need him. He's with Mark now, happy and probably still sleeping. A small smirk flushes across my lips at the thought of them cuddling. No amount of jealousy can make me deny the fact that they are adorable together.

A sharp, biting pain rips harshly through my stomach, and my body forces itself up. I think sometimes my frail figure knows what's better for me more than I do myself. I'm able to slip my jacket over my shoulders, and rush out the door as fast as I can go. I hold back a gag while I climb up the stairs, stairs that I used to skip up. Now they seem like a mountain.

------- ------- ----------

Mark's POV

"Morning." I whisper in Roger's ear, and hear him moan loudly in reply.

"It's fucken early. Why are you waking me up?" He laughs, joining our mouths together before I can answer. I can tell he's cheered up since last night. Maybe he let some of it drift off in his sleep. Maybe he's just ignoring the pain.

"It's already ten." My voice is judgmental, like I wake up early every morning. I can't remember the last time I was up before eleven. Especially when I barely got any sleep before Roger came home last night.

"No, it's not ten yet. We got a couple of minutes." He rolls over on top of me, running his fingers over my ribcage and slipping his tongue in my mouth immediately. What the hell? His mood has changed drastically. There's something wrong here.

"Roger…" I try to stop him, breaking our kiss, but I'm unable to move out from under him.

"Hmmm?" He mumbles, diving right back to capture my mouth.

"Stop…what's up with you?" I ask, and he furrows his brow.

"What? What do you mean? I can't kiss you?" He pouts, and I peck his tiny pink lips softly before pushing him lightly off of me. I pull him into my body, sliding my fingers over the design on his shirt.

"Of course you can kiss me, you were just so…upset last night. And now you're…"

"Happy?" He smiles, showing more joy and contentment than he has in the past few days.

"Well…yea." I laugh, and feel the familiar friction of our hips grinding together.

"I just thought a lot about what happened last night…I just…" He stops before finishing, cupping my cheek in his hand and grazing my blond hair with his fingertips. "I don't want to waste my time with you. I don't want to be some distant shit. This whole thing got me to think about…us." This all seems like a dream. Roger finally realizing everything? Realizing that he can't shut himself out? I guess Mimi has really done him good. A little part of me is envious for her always being able to make Roger change. It's something I've never been able to do.

"I'm glad." I raise my eyebrows, not really knowing how to respond to his epiphany of sorts. "I want this time too…"

"Mark, I don't want you to feel like I'm a burden…" He interrupts me suddenly, making the conversation turn from light to deep.

"A burden? You'd never be…"

"But, when I get sick, there's gonna be all this shit you have to handle…and I don't want you…" He's stopped by a sharp knock at the door. We both gaze in the direction of the outside rooms, unable to move from our comfortable positions. Roger quickly gets up, probably in fear that something bad has happened. "Don't move." He commands before heading to the entrance of the loft. I hear the door slide open, then a short, silent conversation. Seconds later, Roger rushes in and grabs his jeans to slip on.

"What happened?" I hastily ask, sitting up swiftly against the headboard.

"It's Mimi…she says she needs to go to the hospital. Shit Mark…this…" He stares out towards where she is, and stops himself. He doesn't want to scare her. Even though she probably knows it is the end. Or the beginning of the end.

"Well…should I come with you?" I offer, figuring I will be turned down. To my surprise and slight delight, he bobs his head in a nod, and in mere seconds I'm ready to leave. I don't want to be the one slowing anything down.

Mimi looks so tiny, and after a few minutes Roger is forced to carry her. I have no clue how we're going to get there. Maybe a cab…if I put my pants on that have money in the pockets…I might still have a couple bucks left from my job at Buzzline. I dig in my pockets, desperately searching for anything to reach my fingers. I feel a crumpled piece of paper, and pull it out to see a twenty staring back at me. _Holy shit. Where did I get this?_ I think, going over all the times I could have used it over the past few months. Good thing I didn't know about it until now. Now my money can be put to good use for once.

"Here!" I yell, catching up to a cab and rushing Mimi and Roger inside, ignoring Roger's protest. "I have money, just get in the fucking cab!" I yell, and he complies. I place myself in the front seat, next to the strange cab driver, but focus my attention on the rocker and dancer in the back seat. Roger tries frantically to keep Mimi conscious, to keep her talking, responding and moving. Since we left she's completely collapsed.

The hospital seems an eternity away, traffic holding us up for at least twenty minutes. Despite Roger's best attempts, Mimi has passed out in his lap, and I see him holding back tears that threaten to spill over. I feel my own violating my eyes, but I'm able to repress them. Crying at a time like this wouldn't do any good. It all seems so surreal, almost like a movie. We rush inside the hospital, and after a long confrontation, we find ourselves waiting.

Waiting.

Waiting.

Worrying.

Thinking.

Waiting.

Breathing.

I glance over to see Roger biting his nails. Something he only does when he's afraid. We don't talk. I don't dare try to make any sort of conversation. All we can do now is wait.

--------- ---------- ----------

Notes: Sorry for the kind-of-cliffhanger. Like it? It was nice to throw in the Mimi POV. I enjoy writing her. That whole thing about the mattress is an idea that came to me while watching the movie. During "Without You" when she was sitting on it, it always struck me as odd. That she only has a mattress in her apartment. Okay, enough of my incessant rambling. Review! Thanks guys, you're the best!


	21. Bottled Up

AN: Agh…I'm so sick and tired. But, I have nothing to do today, so I can write! Yay! Yes, I do not have much else to say so I'm going to write! Hope you guys like it! This chapter is a little short, I realize, but I promise I'll make the next one longer.

Disclaimer: Jonathan Larson's. For some reason I think I've said that before.

---- ---- ----- -----

Roger's POV

My fingers dance over the wooden arm rests of the chair holding my exhausted body. I hear snores next to me, and glance over to see Mark sleeping, his head bobbing up and down with each breath. I don't blame him, yet I'm angry for some reason. I'm angry that he could fall asleep while waiting. Even though we've been here almost ten hours, he should be more worried. All of my anger and somber feelings are bottled up, ready to burst open the first second they can.

I look around the hospital, finding it hard to believe that Mimi is okay after ten hours in this hellhole. What could they be doing? How could they not come out to tell us how she's doing? She could be in the morgue right now, and I would have no idea. I could have missed her final minutes, her dying breath, her dying words. I would have no idea. I feel so vulnerable. So helpless. It's too familiar.

"Roger?" Mark's mousy voice interrupts my train of thought, and I look over to see him drowsily staring back at me. I fake a smile, and he kindly returns one.

"Hey. You feel asleep." I rub his shoulder lightly, and realize that I can never stay mad at him. Maybe it's easier to be mad when he's unconscious. That way I can't stare into his crystal blue eyes and feel anger.

"Yea, sorry. I really tried not to, but my eyes gave in." He sighs, stretching his legs out in front of him. Well now I can't possibly be angry with him. He apologized for something that was all in my head. I don't understand how one person can know you better than you know yourself.

"No, don't say you're sorry." I see him furrow his brow in confusion, and I don't blame him.

"Any news?" He asks, yawning slightly. I brush my fingers over the side of his face, thanking him mentally. If I were him I'd probably be at home, jealousy burning through my selfish body.

"No. No, nothing new. I don't get how no one tells us anything. I mean she could be dead and we…" Mark lies his hand on my shoulder, massaging it lightly with the tips of his fingers.

"She's not dead. They probably just want to know exactly what's wrong before they tell us. We're not 'family' so we don't have any rights." He explains, allowing me to calm down. I smile at him, trying to fill it with truth and love.

"Thank you."

"No problem. Just trying to help." His lips curve to a smile, and my eyes drown from the love shining through it. I can _see_ how much he loves me. I don't know if he knows how much I love him. I feel like I don't show him. Sometimes I'm so distant, so afraid of everything. I don't give him all that he needs and deserves. He deserves someone better than me. Someone who will be better to him.

"Mr. Davis?" I hear a small voice say, and turn away from Mark to see a blonde nurse behind me. She smiles politely at me, but my frown remains. There's no way I'm smiling at anyone who works here after ten hours of waiting.

"Yes? That's me." I answer and stand up to hear what she has to say.

"Hello. Umm…are you with Ms. Marquez?" Her tone is so happy, so cheerful. How the fuck can she be happy when someone I love is sick? How the hell is she happy working in a place where hundreds of people die each day? I guess you have to be an asshole to work in a hospital.

"Yea. Is she okay? I've been waiting for a f…" Mark lies his hand on my arm, cautioning me against expressing my anger. I know he's right, but I jerk away from him, almost pushing him backwards.

"I know you've been waiting and I'm sorry, but we weren't sure if there was anyone here for her."

"Well…I'm here. So can you please tell me what the hell is up?" I say quietly. If I'm going to be angry, I might as well do it silently.

"Ms. Marquez is very sick." She says, and I close my eyes tightly. I try to repress my feelings, and I'm able to hold them back just for now. Duh she's sick. Why the fuck does she think I brought her here?

"I know that. But what is _wrong_?" My voice is harsh, but calm. My feet shift beneath me, and I hear Mark sit down behind me. He's probably sick of this by now. Sick of me losing my temper and being an ass.

"Well…do you know that she is HIV positive?" Her voice is so innocent, so unknowing, I wonder how the hell she became a nurse. I turn around to see Mark roll his eyes at me, and look over to the counter, for some kind of doctor. Someone who can get to the point. Someone who can tell me the truth.

"Of course I do. Just please tell me how much longer she has. That's all I want to know. Just _please_ tell me." Now my voice is rising, my patience slowly disappearing. But I try to remember Mark behind me. I know he would be telling me to calm down if I would let him. But I'm too stubborn. Instead I clench my fists tightly together and await an answer.

"We think about…two weeks." She states, as if it's no big deal. It's no big deal that someone I love, my friend, is about to die. That I only have limited time with her. That she's dying. That's she could die sooner than two weeks. It's no big deal.

"Wh…what? She said a couple months…I thought...two weeks? That can't be true…it can't…" My breathing becomes labored, stinging my chest with every slight movement. The air hurts to take in, as if it's poison. I feel Mark come up behind me; I feel his hand on my back, trying to hold me up, trying to hold me together. His arms cling tightly around my waist, keeping me on my feet. I'm able to turn around to face him, and I bury my face in his neck. Tears fall quickly from my eyes, wetting Mark's shirt and my face simultaneously. He holds me close to him, trying to comfort me best he can.

"Shhh…Roger…" He whispers in my ear, and after several minutes of uncontrollable sobbing, I'm able to calm myself. I stare in shock, not moving anything but my legs as I sit down in the same chair. Mark sits himself next to me, his fingers gently sprawled across my thigh for reassurance. "I'm sorry." He sighs after several minutes, but I keep my eyes focused on the ground. My mind attempts to process the news I've just heard, but it can't. It's almost as if it's too much. But should I really be this shocked? I knew it was coming. I've known since the beginning that this would happen. And yet I still can't handle the truth. Now I know what Mark will feel like someday. And then he won't have anyone to comfort him like he's doing for me. I'm going to leave him alone.

"You can go see her if you want." I hear the nurse say, trying to offer some help, and somehow I'm able to get up and scowl at her before heading to Mimi's room. The walls close in on me when I see her lying there, tubes running in and out of her, her tiny body dwarfed by the machines and equipment around her. A small gasp catches in my throat, and I see her open her eyes. I turn around to see Mark has followed me, tears carefully displayed on his cheeks. I don't remember him crying. I guess in my daze I must have missed it.

"Roger?" Mimi's voice is so small, so fragile, like glass. I walk over to her bed and sit down next to her, immediately grasping her hand in mine. I can feel the bones more than I ever could, as if she lost weight over the last ten hours.

"I'm here." I whisper, and turn to Mark. He nods, understanding we need some time alone, and proceeds to exit the way we came in. I almost feel bad for ignoring him today. Making him stay with me and then completely forgetting he exists. "How are you feeling?" I ask through my tears, rubbing my thumb lightly over a jutting bone in her finger.

"I'm fine. I'm just tired." A cough reaches her lips, and she tries her best to hold it back, but eventually surrenders. She must be trying to prove that she doesn't need to be in the hospital. "Did they tell you?" Her eyes look so sad as they stare up at me, asking me to accept the truth. For once I feel at peace with the future. I feel like she's comfortable with where she's going.

"Yea. Yea…they did. It took a while though. That nurse is…"

"Roger." She stops me before I go off on a rampage, and I can't help but smile. She's so calm, so serene while she's lying on her deathbed, and I can't stand it. I don't get how she can just have accepted it so soon.

"Are you okay?" I bring her hand up to my lips and kiss it reluctantly, Mark running through my head at every passing second.

"You already asked me that. I'm fine, Roger. Don't worry." Don't worry? Is she crazy? Now she's too calm.

"How are you not scared?"

"I don't know." She answers quickly, as if she knew what I was about to say. Her big brown eyes seem hollow, no life left. "I just feel like I've spent too much time worrying about this moment. Too much time to think about it now. I'm just going to let myself be worry-free from now on." She smiles gently, and tears threaten the lids of my eyes. I bow my head and clutch her hand tightly, looking for some support. I'm the one who needs the support right now. How stupid is that? I've always been selfish like this I suppose. I took half a year away from Mark because of my withdrawal, and now I'm probably making Mimi feel worse.

"Excuse me, visiting hours are over." A voice interrupts my sobs, and I turn to see a doctor standing in the doorway of Mimi's room.

"What? But I only got like…" My breathing heightens again, until Mimi lies her hand on my knee.

"Roger. It's okay. I'll see you tomorrow. Okay?" Her eyebrows raise, waiting for me to accept it, and I do. I have to. It would be stupid of me to fight her. No, selfish of me. My body rises off the bed slowly, trying not to disrupt her too much, and I give her one last wave before departing. Mark sits outside, his eyes focused on the Mimi's room. He darts up as soon as I come out, and embraces me quickly and tightly.

"Are you okay?" He asks, his lips meeting my ear lightly. I pull away, leaving him confused. I feel bad for being distant, but I'm not in the mood to talk. I'm not in the mood for anything right now but sleeping. Maybe curling up next to Mark, but not saying a word. He gives me comfort, but sometimes tries too hard.

"Yea. Let's go." I pull him along through the halls, trying to get away as fast as I can. Away from all the confusion, all of the hurt, all of the anger and pain. All of my past.

----- ------ -----

Notes: Like it? I'm sorry it's so short and so depressing, and then to top it off Roger is kind of having a mind fuck. Maybe that's because I was. XD Well, gimme reviews! I need a self-esteem boost badly after stupid Behind the Wheel! Thanks you guys!


	22. Missing Her

A/N: Okay, I am so sorry that it took me so long to spit this chapter out, I'm kind of overdue for one. But I have so much going on, and at the moment I'm addicted to my other story. So I hope this chapter doesn't make you too sad. I think it's the one I've been dreading to write. Maybe that's why I didn't write it for so long…

Disclaimer: Jonathan Larson's.

--------------------------

Mark's POV

"Did you call them?" Roger asks, finally bringing his face away from being buried in his hands. His big droopy eyes stare up sadly at me, and I place my fingers lightly on his shoulder.

"Yea. They said that they're gonna come as soon as they can. Collins said he would be right over and Joanne and Maureen said they would leave as soon as we got off the phone." I sit down next to him in Mimi's room and he sighs. We've been here almost every day the past few weeks, visiting Mimi, bringing her everything we possibly can to make her happy. Or make her comfortable. It's been two days since two weeks passed. On that day, Roger refused to leave Mimi's room. He was so afraid that she would just drift off the second he went to the bathroom or tried to get some sleep. My reassuring didn't help. Now, we just found out from a fairly annoying and cold doctor that Mimi only has a few hours left. News that struck Roger to his very soul. I have no idea how he is going to make it through this. Losing April almost killed him, and if it's possible, he loved Mimi more.

Lately I've felt useless to everyone. I can't stop Mimi from dying, I can't stop Roger from crying, I can't give Roger what he wants. But I guess right now all he wants is Mimi. That's definitely something I can't give him. I just wish I knew how to make him smile. Even during horrible times like this. But for now, I guess I will just have to become content with being ignored.

"I can't believe this…by tomorrow she will be gone." He whispers, trying not to wake Mimi. The machines are sort of loud for a hospital, and I doubt that Mimi actually has ample time to sleep with all of the nurses coming in constantly. But Roger is too considerate to wake her up just for his sake.

"I know. But, she will be out of pain when she finally goes." I scoot my chair closer to him, and lean down to kiss his shoulder lightly, through the fabric of his blue shirt. He looks over to flash me a sad smile, something that calms me like none other. But I'm not the one who needs calming.

"You're right. It's just…going to feel so different when she's gone. I've known this is coming for a while, but I don't think it will hit me until she's gone." I'm surprised that he's talking so much, that he's not distant. His hand reaches over to grasp mine, and I hold it tightly. I see tears run down his cheeks, and brush my thumb lightly against the clammy skin of his hand to make him feel better.

"I'm sorry Roger." He grips my hand tighter, nodding, but unable to speak. I feel like I could do so much more, but I don't know what. Maybe I should leave him alone with Mimi. But now I think he just needs someone to be here for him. I don't know how he will act around everyone else. He never wanted to be in this position. I remember a conversation we once had while Angel was in the hospital. Roger felt horrible that he couldn't console Collins like he wanted to. He couldn't imagine the pain of having everyone come in and watch Angel wither away. Now, that's what pain he's feelings.

"Thank you for staying here Mark." He stares lovingly into my eyes, and brings our connected hands up to his lips to kiss. I smile and brush the hair out of his face, intentionally wiping a tear away at the same time.

"You're welcome. I love you."

"I love you too. You're all I need right now. I'm sorry if I've been ignoring…" His voice become hostile and guilt-ridden, pressure and stress that he certainly doesn't need right now. I lay my hand on his neck, cupping his cheek slightly with the tips of my fingers.

"Hey. Don't worry about me. I understand completely. You shouldn't feel bad." I explain, even though I have felt quite ignored. But telling him that would be so completely selfish. I know I shouldn't have these feelings, but they push against my best judgment at times. I know he loves me, and that's all I need for now.

"All right." His eyes wearily shut, a side effect from not sleeping much over the past two weeks. Three seconds later they snap open, and he sighs heavily. I know he wants to sleep, but can't. I don't blame him. Not when Mimi has such limited time. I look over to see her peacefully sleeping in the bed next to us, and almost on cue, she opens her eyes dozily.

"Roger…" Her voice squeaks out quietly, and Roger immediately lets go of my hand to replace it with hers. I clench my jaw to keep from spilling out tears, and grip harshly and violently to the arm of the chair I'm sitting in.

"Hey, how are you?"

"Uhh…I…tired. It…hurts." She whispers, and Roger kisses her hand gently.

"I know. It will all be gone soon. Don't worry." He tries to keep her calm, although he's not too calm himself. I'm not really sure if Mimi knows that she only has a few hours left. I'm sure she assumes it's not going to be much longer, but if I were dying, I don't know if I'd want to be informed as to when I'm going to pass.

"Mark?" I hear come from the doorway, and see Collins, Maureen and Joanne slowly make their way into the hospital room. Maureen tightly clutches flowers in her hand, almost crushing them with the force. Joanne smiles kindly at me before glancing over at Roger and Mimi together, then the smile fades quickly away. Collins almost rushes to sit next to Mimi on the bed, prompting her to weakly giggle; probably the first time I have heard her laugh in the past few weeks.

"You doin' all right babe?" Collins asks, and she nods slowly. Maureen replaces the wilting flowers in the yellow vase by the bed with her new ones, before sitting across from me in another blue, leather-like chair.

"She's strong." Joanne grasps onto Mimi's foot, shaking it lightly and holding back tears. I think that's something we all have in common. Not being able to cry.

"I try." Mimi sighs, before coughing harshly. Roger hands her a tissue, and when she accepts it, leans back in his chair.

"Roger have you been getting any sleep?" Maureen asks, flashing me a concerned look, like I should be taking care of him while he's taking care of Mimi. She's right, I should be. I don't know if I've done a very good job of it though. Roger looks over hesitantly at me, before rubbing his eyes lightly.

"Some. I guess not that much. But, you shouldn't be worrying about me right now." His voice lowers and he manages to sit back up next to Mimi.

"Oh, stop being so sad you guys. Come on. We should be talking about good things and laughing. I don't want to die with all of you crying over me." Mimi laughs, her voice surprisingly strong and sure of herself. We all give each other looks of shock. Mimi has just acknowledged that she's about to die, something that we couldn't even do. But I guess she's just ready for it. Something that makes me proud to be her friend. I gently lean forward to see Roger's reaction, pressing my elbows against the arms of the chair and hitching my hands together. He's smiling carefully and sadly, and I know inside he wishes he could start sobbing. "No one's going to talk?" Mimi looks around, and Collins laughs.

"You sure have a lot of energy Meems. Even when you're sitting in a hospital bed, you're still your old feisty self." He smiles widely, brushing her cheek lightly with his hand.

"You know something I've always wanted to know?" Maureen speaks up, and we all turn our attention to her. She's nervously picking at the plastic of the bar by Mimi's feet, while holding Joanne's hand in hers.

"Hmm?" I answer.

"Never mind. I don't want to bring this up…."

"Mo, just do it." Mimi giggles, and Maureen blushes.

"Well…you guys don't have to answer this…but I was just wondering, if it weren't for Angel…do you think…" She lets out a huge breath, sniffing occasionally and stealing looks at Joanne. "Do you think we would be as close as we all are now?" I close my eyes, thinking about Angel. I haven't allowed my mind to consider her in a long time. Angel was the one who kept us all together.

"She kept us all together." Mimi whispers, and we all nod in agreement. "I miss her." Tears beat against my eyes, threatening more than ever to spill over. Roger clutches Mimi's hand tightly, trying to keep her from crying. I don't know what I would do without everyone. If Angel hadn't kept us together, my life would be drastically different. Angel is the reason that we are all together today.

"Well I know that Roger and Mark would have stayed together, even without Angel." Collins jokes, and we all laugh in relief. We all needed a laugh at the moment. Roger leans back and pecks me on the cheek, making me blush and Mimi smile. His eyes connect with mine as he finds my hand once again, giving me comfort and making me feel like I haven't really lost him to Mimi. The room becomes silent again, and Mimi drifts into a slow sleep.

They call her two hours later.

-------------------------

Notes: Okay, I know that that wasn't long, but I wanted to keep it short. The next chapters will be longer. I owe it to you guys. That was quite possibly the hardest thing I have ever had to do. Kill Mimi. Oh God, I hate myself. But please review.


	23. You Don't Have to Say it

A/N: I'm sorry for the depressing last chapter, and thank you guys for all of the reviews and not saying that you hate me…that much. XD And please do not hate me more now. This is the final chapter. I'm sorry, but I think that this is where it should end. Thank all of you guys soooo much for spending the time reading this, and giving me so much reassurance on my first story. It really has helped me throughout this whole process. You guys are great, and keep reviewing like you did to my story! Thank you! I can't say it enough.

Disclaimer: Jonathan Larson's.

-----------------------------

Roger's POV

It's weird to say that she's finally gone. These past few days have been so slow going, so full of nothing, it's hard to think about what they have entailed. Watching Mimi die peacefully, watching the doctor cover her delicate face with a sheet, coming back to the loft in complete shock, cleaning out her home when we had the time and the energy, watching the movers take her dresser away to some orphanage, or pawn shop or whatever the hell they do with it. It's all been bunched up, and I all I knew over those few days were Mark. Mark always seemed to be behind me, rubbing my back gently, kissing me kindly on the cheek, telling me everything was okay whenever I needed the comfort. How did I treat him so horribly when April died?

I remember night after night of shivering, pushing Mark away, telling him to fuck off. He was unaffected by it, he just kept coming back. He kept trying to help me. It wasn't until I was fully off the drugs that I began to really see that there was something more to our relationship. Something that could develop. There were clues before, but I couldn't really tell until I removed the clouds from my mind. There was something that I loved about Mark. Not admired or preferred, but truly _loved._

Now that Mimi's gone it seems like we have nothing left to be worried for. There is nothing coming but…when I'm sick. I wonder how long it will be. I wonder that everyday. I wonder how Mark will handle it. He's stronger than me, so he won't completely collapse like I would. If Mark left me, I have no clue how I would live. So how is he going to do without me?

"How are you?" Mark peeks into my room, leaning his pale hand against the doorframe. I smile sadly at him, recalling all of the times he has asked me this question in the past few days. But I know it's because he cares. "Are you hungry? Joanne bought us some muffins if you want one. They're pretty good. She came over while you were in here."

"No, I'm fine. I don't want food now. I was just thinking." My eyes focus back on the wooden floor beneath me, where they have been for the past few hours. I was going to go to sleep when I came in here, sitting calmly down on my bed, and ready to shut my eyes for the night. But a part of me couldn't lie down. I never wanted to sleep again. I'm afraid I might never wake up. After seeing Mimi fall asleep to die, sleep seems unappetizing to me.

"Get any sleep?" He asks, creeping over to sit next to me on the bed and lying his hand on the naked skin of my back.

"No. I've been sitting here since I left." I sigh, and hope that he doesn't think I left him in the living room because I wanted to get away. That would be the last thing I'd want to do. Months and years ago maybe that would be the case. But after losing so many people and pushing Mark away, I'm ready to let him in this time.

"Oh. I'm sorry I didn't check on you earlier." He apologizes, and I turn my head to stare into his bright blue eyes. A smile spreads across his lips, and it breaks me. It breaks my heart, and every sane part of me I had. I don't even know why, but I begin to cry. Cry harder than I ever have. Mark pulls me carefully into his arms, my tears running down his shirt and thinning out warmly across my face.

"I'm sorry." I whisper against his body, as he cradles me softly, rocking slowly back and forth.

"Why are you sorry?" His voice is so calm and patient, everything that I need.

"I'm sorry that I'm going to leave you. I can't believe…"

"Roger, don't think about that." He quiets me from my future thoughts, from having a conversation that might change everything forever. But I know this is the time to talk about it, and I'm determined to get it out.

"No, Mark. I need to. Please just listen." I remove myself from his embrace cautiously, grasping his hands in mine after rubbing away all of the tears on my cheeks. He sighs, nerves and fear breaking his breath. I know he doesn't want to face the fact that I'm dying.

"What?" His eyes connect with mine as he waits for me to talk, and I gather all that I need to say.

"I love you." Is all I manage to say, and tears immediately come to his eyes. _Shit_. I was hoping to do this without crying. I pull him into me, our positions now reversed, and I kiss the top of his head. "Mark, don't cry." I tell him, and realize that I might have to comfort him in the years coming. Something I will have to get used to. Comforting Mark is something that I haven't done much. He deserves my comfort, but he has always been the one helping me through horrible times. I wasn't there when Maureen dumped him; all I did was try to get him to fall in love with me. Now for once, I'm going to have to learn to stop being selfish.

"I'm sorry. I just…don't want to talk about this." He whimpers, and I take in a huge breath.

"Mark, we have to. I want to do it while the feeling of Mimi leaving is this strong. Now I know how much it will hurt when I…go and I…" I run my fingers through his blond hair, smoothing down a jutting piece and finding his eyes. They are filled with tears, like an overflowing pool. I want to make them all disappear. Why can't I fix this? Why can't I get rid of this fucken' disease? This thing that has completely split everyone apart. This thing that will one day take me away from the love of my life.

"I don't know how…I'm going to…" He trembles in my grip, grasping me everywhere. It feels like he is trying to find me, like I am disappearing before him.

"You're going to go on." I say confidently, even though the thought of Mark with someone else is excruciatingly painful to me. He loves _me_. He shouldn't have to go on. He shouldn't have to forget about me. He shouldn't have to block my death from his mind while he tries to fall in love again.

"How? I don't even know what I would begin to do." Is he expecting me to answer him? Expecting me to lay out a plan for his life after me? I don't want him to go on without me, so how am I supposed to convince him he can? The vulnerable part of me is taking over.

"Lie back." I tell him, leaning backwards lightly as he follows me, until we are both lying on my bed. My lips cover him with kisses, his forehead, his ears, his cheeks, his lips. I pull his face up to mine so he can return them, his body pressed tightly against mine. Our mouths wrap around each other, feeling the familiar touches and breaths. He lets my tongue inside, sobbing at the touch of my hands on his hips. I break our kiss to comfort him, pecking his forehead. "Shh…Mark. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought this up. It was stupid and I'm just being selfish…"

"No, you're not. You're right. We do need to talk about this." He stops me, placing his finger gently on my lips. "This is all I have to say. I love you. And when you go, I have no clue how the fuck I'll survive but it will happen. It has to. And I don't want you to worry about me." He spits it all out, taking his finger off of my mouth to allow me to retaliate. But I can't. I can't speak. This is probably the most blunt conversation we have ever had. I admitted that I'm dying, he admitted it will be impossible to live afterwards. I can only assume that we will never speak of this again.

"All right." I whisper, not being able to raise the volume of my voice. He sinks back down against my body, his sobs dying slowly.

"Mark?" I say after a long silence, and he pricks his head back up quickly in shock. He might have been sleeping.

"Yea?" He gasps, tiredly resting his chin on my chest to look into my eyes while we speak.

"Did I ever tell you? While I was…going through…withdrawal?" My memory searches for an answer by itself, looking back through those days of pain and tears. Those days when Mark was by my side. But if I loved him after I came out of it, was it possible I loved him while it was all happening? It's possible Mark and I had sex while I was going through withdrawal. I would not remember a thing. I doubt it happened, but it very well could have.

"Tell me what?"

"That I loved you." I answer, and he rises off of my body, looking out at the moonlight.

"No…" His voice wanders away, as if he's lost in thoughts. "But there was a time that I thought you did. I convinced myself you did. It was stupid…" He buries his face in his hands, shaking it lightly. I lean over to place my hand on his shoulder, then kiss it gently.

"It wasn't stupid. I have always loved you Mark." He turns to face me, lightly pushing me back on the bed.

**A year and a half ago**

"Mark!" I scream at the top of my lungs as I hold the needle to my skin, ready to puncture, ready to ruin all that I have worked towards. It's been so long since my last hit, so long. I need it. I really do. But Mark can stop me. He will. No, just do it. Shoot up. You need it. I need it. My body is tired, sick, wanting. I need this.

"Roger what the fuck?" Mark bursts through the door, knocking the needle out of my hand as quickly and carefully he can. His eyes are so full of hurt and betrayal. Like me shooting up hurts him more than myself.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." I whisper constantly, trying to make sense out of why I would do this. My mind has developed into two sides. One telling me I need heroin, and the other stopping my urges. Telling me I can make it through this. "Mark. I'm sorry." I say one final time, and he pulls me softly into an embrace. I'm used to this by now. Apologizing, hugging, explaining how I feel, then flipping out once again. It's all so repetitive. I'm sick of it, but I can't stop. I can't stop trying to shoot up. Mark is the only thing keeping me together.

"It's okay. Just don't fucking do that." He says harshly in my ear, and I nod violently in compliance. Even though I know that I will be trying to do it again tomorrow. "Why do you need it so much?"

"I…I don't know. I…Mark…I want to die." I gasp, sobs filling my body and the incessant pain overtaking my mind.

"No you don't. Roger, you can make it. It will stop soon. I promise." He rubs my back roughly, convincing me that I can indeed live through this fucking hell. His touch is so nice. He's the only one to touch me since April died. I miss April's touch. I miss intimate moments. I miss April. I miss being able to talk to Mark without heroin swimming through my mind. I miss our friendship. I miss our bond. I miss Mark. He's here, hugging my shaking body, and I miss him.

"Mark, don't leave. Don't give up on me." I mumble, trying to catch my breath. Mark puts his hand on the back of my neck, stroking it lovingly. But there is more to his touch than friendship. He's trying to comfort, but it's kinder, gentler, and softer, something I haven't felt in so long. I pick my head up, out of his grip, and look him deeply in the eyes.

"I won't." He tells me, and for a second I want to lean forward to his lips. It must be the pain. I just need someone that loves me. I can't just assume that Mark loves me more than a friend just so I have an excuse to live. "I'd never leave you Roger." I feel his lips connect lightly with the edge of my neck. Was it a mistake, or did he really mean to kiss me? It had to be a mistake. Mark wouldn't kiss me. Even though it wasn't on my lips, it's still a kiss. Isn't it? I shouldn't be questioning something that is all in my head. "Let's get you in bed. Okay?" I nod in approval, and he drags my limp body over to my worn out mattress.

"Thank you." I cough, closing my eyes and trying to find sleep. I need to clear my mind of Mark. There's nothing there. These damn drugs.

Present 

"I love you Mark." I whisper before drifting to sleep, holding him securely in my arms.

"Go to sleep Roger." He tells me, prompting a smile to come across my face. He doesn't need to say it.

-----------------------------

Notes: Oh my God, I'm done. I cannot believe it. All right. breathes It's all right. I can make it. This has been so great, all of you reviewers have made my life over the past few months and thank you so much for reading and bearing through all of my paranoia and craziness. You have all made me become a better writer, and I appreciate that very much.

Thank you especially to everyone who helped me write this story, who told me that it was good when I whined that I suck, and who talked me through my times of writer's block. Thank you to Margerita for telling me to post this in the first place. If it weren't for you none of this would have happened! JTM! (Didja like the return of the muffin?) And to Carrie. Do I have to say it? You know what I want to say. It's. XD I thank this story for bringing me to you.

Thank you.


End file.
